


Playing your cards right

by Ragno



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, School Reunion, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:07:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24607453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ragno/pseuds/Ragno
Summary: Home is a feeling, a feeling you can place in space and time but a feeling nonetheless. The Kaspbrak household is not Eddie’s home. Derry is definitely not Eddie’s home. But the memories, oh the memories he made there, the emotions associated with the cold winter, the dirt of the Barrens, the walls of Derry High, the intimacy of a poorly built hideout, those are why Eddie always comes back. Those are what he calls home.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 39
Kudos: 69





	1. XX Judgement (reversed)

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo I'm back! First of all, I want to say thank you to every one of you that has read or left a nice comment on any of my previous works. I haven't been really active in any fandom lately and I haven't replied to any of them since all this COVID hell started. Most of you don't know this, but I'm from Spain and things got pretty ugly pretty fast here, so yeah, I wasn't in the mood to write anything at all. This work was supposed to be part of a Reddie Big Bang (and still is) that started before any of this happened, so I had plans for this story, plans that changed completely over the course of these months. So maybe this story is darker than I intended and too introspective. If you don't like it, I don't blame you, I still don't know how I feel about it, but I said I would finish it and here I am. And here you are too, so I hope it's worth your time.

The thought of going back home is always nice. In Eddie’s head, the word ‘home’ hasn’t lost its meaning yet —that is probably because, for him, the words ‘home’ and ‘house’ don’t need to be related at all. Home is a feeling, a feeling you can place in space and time but a feeling nonetheless. The Kaspbrak household is not Eddie’s home. Derry is definitely not Eddie’s home. But the memories, oh the memories he made there, the emotions associated with the cold winter, the dirt of the Barrens, the walls of Derry High, the intimacy of a poorly built hideout, those are why Eddie always comes back. Those are what he calls home.

He is 25. He is an adult. Not the way 18 year-olds think they’re adults, or how 21 year-olds know their adults. Eddie is an adult in the boring way adults know their teenage years will be no longer back; in paying taxes and rent and following stupid schedules and working a stupid job and always smiling because you must be grateful, Eddie, so many people have it worse than you. He’s an adult in the way that his mom now asks if he’s ever going to get married when years ago she still warned him about dirty girls.

The moment he sets a foot in Derry, though, in that exact moment, Eddie feels like a kid all over again.

It was the anniversary of Derry High, Eddie didn’t know for how many years that place had been tormenting kids and he didn’t care. It must have been a ton because Eddie remembers his mom telling him about going there when she was a kid. Anyway, someone had decided to take the opportunity and organize a class reunion too. Eddie wasn’t really fond of his school years but he did want to meet his friends.

They had been exchanging emails and phone calls, and they had decided to take some days off and stay in Derry for a week so they could have time to catch up and do things together apart from attending the reunion. They talked about booking rooms at the same hotel too (not like there were a lot of hotels in Derry): they picked the one where the reunion would take place, just so it would be easier to get to their rooms in case they ended up partying too hard. Mike obviously declined because he still lived in Derry, and Ben and Richie decided to just stay at their parents’ house. For Bill, Beverly, and Eddie, though, staying in their old room wasn’t something they wanted to do, so the hotel was the only option. Stan joined them too. He did still have his old room available and his relationship with his parents was great, but he was bringing his girlfriend too, and, to quote him, staying at his parents would present “uncomfortable situations.”

It’s early in the morning when Eddie arrives at the hotel, but he’s not the first, of course. Stan and Patty are already there —Eddie has heard a lot about her, but he’s never met her in person. She seems nice when Stan introduces them, the kind of girl Stan would fall for. Eddie knows it won’t be too long before there is a ring on her finger. They’re both calm and composed and share the same dry sense of humor. They are friends and they love each other, and Eddie can’t help to feel a pinch inside his chest when he looks at them.

“What about you, Eddie? Are you here with someone?” Patty politely asks. Of course, she would ask. Eddie is a nice looking man, he’s got a decent job, he dresses well, he looks clean, he smells good, he exercises. Maybe he’s not here with someone but there has to be someone, right? Because if there isn’t, then that means something is wrong with Eddie, something you can’t see. Oh, well.

“No, I’m just here with my 2.5 suitcases and the fear of knowing how many people have slept in the bedsheets I’m about to lay down on for the next days,” Eddie answers with a resigned smile. Stan and Patty laugh.

“I thought Richie was the comedian,” she smiles, looking at Stan.

“Oh, no, he’s totally serious,” Stan replies. “That wasn’t a joke.”

It wasn’t. But it kind of was, too. Come on, Stan, Eddie can be funny sometimes. He’s no Richie Tozier, of course. No one is Richie Tozier.

Bill and Beverly arrive almost at the same time, a couple of hours after. They all have lunch together and they talk about their lives, their jobs, and Bill talks about Audra and Beverly talks about Tom, and why the hell is so important to be with someone? Is Eddie reading too much into it? 

He feels left out. He feels like they’re trying to prove something, like they’re trying to show Eddie he’s not normal, like they’re saying his mom is right.  _ You should settle down, Eddie-bear. _

Fuck it. Mike is not dating anyone either, although that probably means he’s dating a lot. Mike is handsome, tall, strong, fucking smart, he could have anyone he wanted and he probably does. Ben is single too, but that’s because there’s only one girl he would go for. He might have changed on the outside, but on the inside, he’s still the same insecure guy who doesn’t know what he deserves.

So they have reasons not to date someone, right? Eddie has them too. The reason Eddie is not dating anyone is… Well, he’s… 

“Have you guys contacted the others? When are we meeting?” Bill asks.

“I’ve talked to Ben. He’s at home with his parents. He said we should meet for dinner,” Beverly replies. “Richie said he would get here tonight in his last email. We should call Mike and ask him for a nice restaurant to have a reunion.”

“Have you guys heard Richie’s latest radio show? It’s probably the weirdest thing I’ve ever heard,” Stan says with a smile. “But I must admit, he is funny.”

“He’s crazy,” Beverly laughs. “I can’t believe they let them say those things on the radio.”

“That’s probably the reason why it airs so late,” Bill points out, and everybody agrees.

Richie Tozier. Trashmouth. He’s getting more and more popular on the radio. Eddie knows he’s doing stand-up too, here and there, wherever they call him. 

Richie isn’t dating anybody either.

Everybody knows why.

  
  


*

Mike hugs them all, flashing that infectious smile you can’t help mirroring, andStan introduces Patty to the rest of the Losers. They’re all so happy to finally meet her. Beverly even jokes about being thankful they got to meet Patty before the wedding. Everybody laughs, Stan too. He’s not asked her to marry him yet, but everybody knows it’s a matter of time. They look happy, so happy. They’re the kind of couple who makes you believe in love.

And speaking of love, it’s almost painful to watch Ben interact with Beverly —Eddie wonders if Beverly notices too or if she’s just that oblivious. Oblivious is definitely not a word Eddie would use to describe Beverly Marsh, but who knows. Sometimes love can be that blind. Because it’s pretty obvious she loves him too. She’s engaged to Tom, though, for some reason. Eddie guesses it’s the same reason why he started dating Myra: easy, familiar, a safe choice.

“Man, look at you, you’ve changed so much!” Richie pats Ben’s back, checking him out. “Are you going to keep working out until you embarrass the rest of us to death?”

“I don’t think he’s changed at all,” Beverly says with a warm smile. Ben gets red. Stan rolls his eyes. Almost like being kids all over again. 

“Well, Bev, I think you’re blind,” Richie replies.

“No, she’s not,” Stan points out, and he doesn’t need to say anything else. Everybody knows what he’s talking about. The elephant in the room. Bev and Ben look away from each other. Well, it’s going to be a long weekend.

“Anyway, I’m not the only one who’s been taking care of himself,” Ben says, trying to change the subject. “Look at Eddie. I know enough to be sure there are abs under that shirt.”

“Hey, don’t drag me into this, man,” Eddie laughs, but it’s too late. Now everybody is paying attention to him and not to Ben's red cheeks. “Look, I’m not… I just run.”

“It shows,” Richie says. It’s the first thing he’s said to Eddie since they met. “If only your mom had better taste in clothes…”

“Good to see you too, Richie,” Eddie says, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach.

“… She’s got a nice taste in men.”

“Fuck off, man.”

The rest of the losers laugh. Richie does too, although his laugh it’s not the same as the others’. It’s the same as Eddie’s. It’s fake.

Eddie wonders if the others feel it too or if they don’t remember enough to understand what’s going on. Maybe they’re pretending not to remember. Maybe they don’t want to remember. Eddie doesn’t want to remember either. So it’s good Richie did that, start bickering, the usual between them, right? Bickering and fighting and making bad jokes and laughing at everything. Richie-and-Eddie, like it used to be. Until it wasn’t anymore.

They all talk about their lives over dinner. They’re still pretty much in contact, but a few phone calls and a bunch of emails aren’t the same as sharing stories and asking the right questions face to face. Like, for example, when the hell is Bill going to stop emailing them unfinished novels and start trying to publish them.

“Oh, but he would have to actually finish them, in that case,” Stan says, and everybody laughs, including Bill.

“I’m just bad at writing endings, okay? I hear a lot of complaining but no one is offering a hand to help.”

“Someone please help him, I can’t stand another unresolved mystery that won’t be resolved in the end anyway,” Beverly rolls her eyes.

“Wait, you mean you read them?” Richie asks, making everybody laugh again.

“You’re such a bad friend, Richie!” Bill complains while Mike suggests: “Oh, please, Richie, help him finish those books. I would love to read what you could do with those stories.”

Stan takes a sip of his wine with half a smile on his lips. “I bet he doesn’t even write his own shit, how could he help Bill write an actual ending?”

“I do write my own shit, Stanley. And I perform it  _ live, _ ” Richie replies, faking being offended.

“Come on, Richie. We all know your show is pre-recorded,” Beverly chimes in, and now everybody laughs at Richie.

Richie gives her a dirty look. “It is pre-recorded, Miss Molly Ringwald, but we record it before a live studio audience, so I can’t fuck it up anyway because we don’t cut anything. You guys should come someday. It’s pretty fun, you get to hear it before anyone else and you get a free sandwich.”

“Very generous,” Bill laughs. “I wasn’t sure but the free sandwich totally got me in.”

“Have you visited the studio, Eddie?” Ben asks and suddenly Eddie feels all those eyes staring at him. He doesn’t look up, not yet. He keeps cutting his already cut fillet. “You live in Chicago too, right? Isn’t Richie’s studio there?”

Eddie looks up and gives them an awkward smile. His brain is not fast enough to make up an excuse, so there are a few seconds of silence that makes his answer feel more uncomfortable than it already is.

“I, uh… I haven’t, actually,” he starts, clearing his throat and sipping on his wine so he can buy some time. Everybody is looking at him. Everybody except for Richie. “I guess I’ve been pretty busy and I haven’t… we haven’t really talked about it,” he says, looking at Richie, trying to get a sympathetic reply.

“Yeah, we haven’t talked about it,” Richie repeats.

They haven’t talked about it. They haven’t talked about anything, period.

The uncomfortable silence is back and Eddie doesn’t know what else to say, so he focuses on his fillet and brings a piece to his mouth. He can’t speak if he’s chewing, right? Right. At least the food is good, although Eddie suspects he’ll get a stomach ache tonight anyway. His stomach never knew how to handle well heavy emotions and it’s not going to start doing it now.

Luckily Bill speaks again, changes the subject, asking Stan about his new job as an accountant. Everybody quickly forgets about Eddie and Eddie tries to forget about himself too.

*

The next day they decide they would walk around town, going to those places where they used to hang out all the time, bringing back some old memories and making new ones too. The reunion was on Friday, so they would have Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday to do things together. They wouldn’t have a lot of time to be together on the weekend, most of them had booked their return flight on Saturday night or Sunday morning because they needed to get back to work next Monday.

“I don’t know about you, guys, but I need to go see a movie at the Aladdin,” Beverly says, and everybody is immediately on board.

It’s almost a miracle the place is still running, according to Mike. Since a new shopping mall opened a few years ago not a lot of people went there anymore. To Eddie it still holds a little bit of magic, of those evenings eating popcorn and watching horror movies with his friends, thinking the monsters could actually come out of the screen and catch you, laughing together because they were afraid but it was so much fun.

“They mostly play old movies now,” Mike says as they walk in.

“That’s actually even better,” Eddie smiles. Yeah, nothing like feeling like a twelve-year-old all over again.

They end up watching a horror movie, of course. When they see The Shining is playing they don’t even need to talk about it, they just go buy the tickets immediately. The theatre is not like it used to be, now it looks old and it shows no one has really cared for it in a long time, but it still holds the same spirit. They enjoy the movie like it’s the first time they’re watching it, laughing and jumping at the scares and throwing popcorn at each other.

“It’s a pity Bowers and his gang are not here, we could have showered them in soda,” Stan says, remembering the time Richie did exactly that.

Richie makes a face. “I wouldn’t have done it if I had known he was a fucking serial killer.”

“Oh, don’t lie, you totally would,” Beverly laughs and they all know it’s true. Richie was never one to think first and act later.

“Is he still locked in?” Bill asks Mike once they’re out of the theatre. He must know, since he’s the one who still lives in Derry.

“Yeah, he is,” Mike nods. “They put him in the adults facility when he turned eighteen, then he went to the mental unit in Juniper Hill after they decided there was no way they could rehabilitate him.”

“Well, he killed a lot of fucking people,” Richie scoffs a sarcastic laugh.

Ben sighs. “This place was always fucked up. I couldn’t believe it when I first moved here. I thought I was going to die.”

“We all thought that,” Eddie agrees, and that’s when he notices Patty’s horrified face. “Oh, Stan never told you?”

“Not much,” she says.

“I don’t like to talk about it. You’d agree with me it’s not the best thing to talk about over dinner,” Stan replies, and he’s right. It’s already difficult to talk about it with the rest of the Losers, so Eddie can’t imagine how it must be to face the topic with someone else.

He never said anything to Myra about it. He never talked to her about anything that happened in Derry. Now that he thinks about it, he never shared a lot with Myra. Eddie can’t believe he really invested three years in a relationship he knew was doomed from the start. He never loved Myra, and he’s sure Myra never loved him either. She definitely felt something for him, but it wasn’t love. It was… something else.

“Henry Bowers and his gang were always after us,” Bill explains once they get to a quieter place. “They were a few years older than us, but that didn’t really matter. They didn’t care about that. They would terrorize whoever they feel like at the moment. And Richie usually got the worst part.”

“Because he never knew how to keep his mouth shut,” Stan adds, giving Richie a dirty look. “Which means most of the time we had to run away for our lives because Richie managed to piss them off really bad.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault we shared a school with a psycho,” Richie scoffs a laugh. “He killed his fucking dad, man. I don’t think my mouth was the problem.”

“Your mouth is always the problem,” Beverly laughs, and they all do too. It’s a good thing they’re able to laugh about those things now —back in the day Richie was the only one who dared to joke about it, but no one found it funny. “We were lucky. We are alive,” she says, looking at them with a soft smile. “Nothing about us is special. We could have ended up like Betty, like Veronica, like…”

“Georgie,” Bill completes the sentence. Everybody lowers their heads and Eddie can see the guilt on Beverly’s face.

“We don’t know if…”

“We do,” Bill cuts her off, shaking his head. “They said Henry did all of it, and all of it includes Georgie.” He turns to Patty. “They never found the body, just his raincoat.” Bill looks down, remembering. Eddie doesn’t like to remember. Not that. “It was covered in blood.”

“My goodness,” Patty covers her face with her hands, and Stan puts an arm around her shoulders. “Bill, I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago…” “Henry was troubled. His dad was a monster. It was a matter of time before he snapped. His dad was the real target, and he was the one Henry killed last. First, he killed his friends, and before that he… just targeted innocent people, kids. I guess it was easier. There is no point in wondering what we could have done better. Georgie was just there, at the wrong place at the wrong time, exactly like everyone else. It could have been any of us.”

*

Talking about Henry Bowers makes them bring back memories. Remembering Henry’s dad makes them think about their own parents, makes Eddie think about his mom. He still talks to her: he doesn’t think he could ever be brave enough to do like Beverly and just cut all ties with his family. Of course, Beverly’s dad was arguably worse than Eddie’s mom, but Eddie doesn’t like to think about how easy it would be for him to cut ties with his mom if she had been as bad as Beverly’s dad. Maybe he couldn’t have done it then either.

They don’t have a close relationship, though, Eddie and his mom. She doesn’t even know Eddie is in town and he hasn’t decided if he wants to tell her. Bill hasn’t told his parents either, and that makes Eddie feel less lonely in his decision. Bill still talks to his parents too but, like Eddie, he doesn’t have a close relationship with them. He hasn’t had it since Georgie died.

Eddie can’t help feeling a little jealous when Ben talks about his mom, though, or when Stan talks about his parents. Having a loving family is something Eddie had always wanted, maybe because his mom always tried to convince him everything she did was because she loved him. For many years Eddie really thought that was love, that was the way you would show love, and it made him feel awful. He didn’t understand how he could reject his mom’s affection, but he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all, and that made him feel like a monster.

“My mom asked about you,” Richie says when they’re walking to their cars. Mike and Bill are talking about where to have dinner, Ben and Beverly look like they’re in their own world, and Stan and Patty are having dinner with Stan parents. It kind of feels like Eddie and Richie are walking alone together. Maybe that’s the reason why Richie decided to talk to him. It’s the first time he’s said anything directly to Eddie since they all met up.

“Oh.” It’s still awkward, no matter how much Richie tries to sound casual. Eddie doesn’t even look at him when he replies. “Are your parents okay?”

Maggie and Wentworth Tozier were the closest things to a parental figure Eddie ever had. A real parental figure. They weren’t perfect, of course, nobody is. Wentworth was too much like Richie, always talking about movies and records and making weird jokes Eddie didn’t always understand. Sometimes he teamed up with Richie and it was like watching an old movie, one of those that were made when movies were first invented. It was in equal parts amusing and disturbing. 

Maggie was the total opposite. She was sweet and shy, clearly an introvert, but she always smiled when her husband and her son were being loud and obnoxious. She never fully understood Richie, but she tried. Eddie liked her. They got along really well. She never told Richie he was dirty or disgusting, even when he was, and would always let Eddie stay the night and even let him help to do the dishes after dinner. Eddie’s mom thought he shouldn’t be that close to knives, he could hurt himself. 

“Yeah, they’re fine. Mom’s got a new haircut. She says she’s hip now,” Richie laughs.

“Oh my God,” Eddie laughs too, awkwardly, looking at Richie for just a second before looking away again. “Don’t be too cruel to her about it.”

“I wasn’t! She looked pretty. I told her so.”

“You probably made it sound like it was a joke.”

“Probably,” Richie considered. “But she knows me well.”

“And you know her too,” Eddie replies. Richie looks at him. He can feel Richie’s eyes on him. Eddie looks back and manages to hold Richie’s gaze for more than a second. An accomplishment. 

“I’m not eighteen anymore, Eddie,” Richie says.

Eddie looks away once again.

What’s that supposed to mean? Is Richie talking about his relationship with his mom or is there something else? Is he trying to tell Eddie something? Should Eddie say anything? And if he should, what? Eddie doesn’t know how to respond to that. Richie is not eighteen anymore, Eddie knows that —he’s not eighteen either. But that doesn’t change anything, not really. What happened still happened, no matter how long in the past it was.

But it looks like Richie is trying to fix it, somehow. Or at least he’s trying to act like it didn’t happen. Eddie is not sure how he feels about that. He’s not sure how he feels about Richie being the one to reach out, either. It was obvious Richie would be the one reaching out, even if it was mostly Eddie’s fault (although not entirely), but was Eddie ready for it? Was he ready to fix his relationship with Richie? For everything to be like it was before? Could it even be like it was before?

“You should go visit them,” Richie says again. Eddie wonders how long had he stayed in silence. “I won’t be there. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“What are you talking about? I don’t care if you’re there,” Eddie tries to scoff a laugh. He fails. It comes out more like a pained gasp. Ridiculous.

“I’m not stupid, Eddie. Don’t treat me like I’m stupid.”

Eddie feels a twist in his guts. He looks around, wonders if the others are paying any attention to what is going on between them. He looks at Richie again.

“It’s your parent’s house, Richie.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Richie laughs successfully. Eddie wonders If he’s faking anyway. Some part of him hopes so. “I’m a big boy. I can handle you not wanting me around. Just go visit them. They love you too.”

They love you  _ too _ . Eddie is stuck in the various meanings that little word can have.

“I’m not eighteen anymore either.”


	2. XVIII. The Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Heavily internalized homophobia (this will be a constant in this story, sorry)

_“Richie. I need to tell you something.”_

Okay, let’s go back ten years ago. 

They were sharing Richie’s bed. They had shared it exactly like that a million times before, so many times Eddie knew every corner of it, he knew the best spot to sleep on, he knew how to avoid that spring pushing out just a little, he had a favorite pillow and he had a favorite piece of clothing to borrow from Richie to use as his pajamas (an old Muppets t-shirt and Richie’s gym shorts from when he tried playing basketball. He lasted about two weeks before realizing just because he was tall it didn’t mean he was any good at it).

Richie’s bed was always a safe place for Eddie since he was a little kid. It never felt like that when they shared Eddie’s instead. At ten, twelve, fourteen years old Eddie didn’t really understand why, or he didn’t know how to explain it, at least. Now Eddie knows it was the freedom to be himself without the fear of judgment. In his room, in his house, Eddie always felt judged. By the perfectly placed bedclothes, by the ironed shirts inside his closet, by the old flower curtains and by his lined up toys on top of his drawer, by his mom in the room next door or downstairs watching infomercials.

When they were kids Richie would always complain about his parents not caring about him, or he’d make jokes about it, which was Richie’s way of complaining (it was Richie’s way of communicating, period). Richie didn’t know how it was to have a mother who cared about absolutely everything. Eddie loved Richie’s family. It was true Wentworth was quite a character and Maggie never really understood his son’s sense of humor, but they were good parents, they never neglected Richie, they never forced him to do things in the name of a higher power or tried to keep him from experiencing things or made him afraid of just living.

“You know you’re welcome here whenever you want, Eddie,” Maggie always said. She was the one who always talked Sonia into letting Eddie spend the night. Eddie’s mom never liked Richie that much, or at all, but Maggie was a nice, quiet woman, she was married to a dentist, and the Tozier family had a good reputation in town, so it was difficult for Sonia to argue with her, and for that Eddie would always be grateful.

He could do a lot of things at Richie’s that he would never dream of doing at his own home, like eating a fluffernutter or playing video-games until late at night on the weekends. But he wouldn’t just do that, he also helped Richie do his chores, tidying his room, mowing the lawn, setting the table and washing the dishes. He liked doing those things too. His mom never let him do anything (he could hurt himself, break a plate, have an allergic reaction to the grass, get too tired, he was _fragile_ ). At Richie’s Eddie felt useful, he felt he wasn’t helpless.

His favorite part, though, was going to bed. They would change clothes and read comic books or play video-games until they were too tired, and then they would get under the sheets, Richie making jokes and Eddie laughing at them, talking about movies or rock bands or stupid people at school, and they would wake up tangled with each other and none of them would care. Eddie was always afraid of what his mom would say if she ever came into his room and saw them sleeping like that. That’s why Eddie was always careful at home, but at Richie’s… at Richie’s, he didn’t need to be careful. At Richie’s, he could be just free.

That’s why he said it, that night. Or why he thought he would be able to say it. He felt free enough, brave enough, hiding in the darkness of Richie’s room, covered with his sheets and blankets, their knees touching and their heads sharing a pillow. Richie had been telling a dumb story about something that happened a few days ago with his mom at the mall, making voices that sounded mostly the same, and Eddie had laughed so hard his belly hurt.

Richie called him cute. That was the usual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t make Eddie’s stomach flip every single time. Richie called him cute that night, and instead of pinching Eddie’s cheek, he stroked it, and at that moment Eddie knew it didn’t matter they were in the dark, he was sure Richie could _feel_ the color in his cheeks.

They fell in silence, not really seeing each other but looking at each other anyway, and Richie’s hand was still on Eddie’s cheeks when he found the courage to speak up, to lick his lips and swallow because his mouth felt dry and say:

“Richie. I need to tell you something.”

What he didn’t expect, though, was all that courage to just fade away the moment he could distinguish the shine of Richie’s smile when he asked: “Yeah? What is it?”

In just a second Eddie’s brain numbered all the reasons why whatever he was thinking about saying could go completely wrong, along with all the reasons why whatever he was thinking about saying could be even right. Was he sure of what he was going to say? Did he even know the words? Could he speak proper English?

“I… uh…” Eddie stammered, swallowing again. It was too hot in there, but he was covered in a cold sweat and his chest… he couldn’t… Shit, he needed his inhaler.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Richie whispered, getting closer. “You can tell me anything, Eds.”

“Don’t call me that.” Not now. Not that name. Eddie felt too weak to deal with all of the implications that the nickname had in his mind. He closed his eyes, trying to take deep breaths. No, he couldn’t. He couldn’t say it. This was all a mistake. “I can’t, Rich.”

“Come on,” Richie chuckled, his hand sliding on the back of Eddie’s neck, pressing their foreheads together. “Like this, huh? Just the two of us. It can be our secret.”

Eddie’s breathing sped up. They were too close. Too close. He was practically breathing Richie’s breath, for God’s sake!

He jumped out of the bed, falling on his knees and looking for his backpack in the darkness, trying desperately to find his inhaler. He heard a drawer open and close, and then Richie was kneeling in front of him, holding his face and pushing and inhaler into his mouth.

“Here. Here, Eddie. Breathe,” Richie said, triggering a few puffs into Eddie’s throat. “It’s over, man. You’re fine. You’re fine.” He smiled and touched Eddie’s face. A stroke on Eddie’s cheek, his hair being pushed behind his ear.

And then…

Then.

Eddie’s heart was so loud. Too loud.

_“Is this okay”_

They were fifteen, and it was the last time Richie and Eddie shared a bed.

*

If anyone asked Eddie he would say he didn’t remember what happened that night at the Tozier’s, and it wouldn’t be a lie, but it wouldn’t be the truth either. Eddie did remember, but he was doing the best he could trying to forget. He left early in the morning even if it was Sunday, didn’t even have breakfast, and got home just in time to go to church with his mom. That made Sonia very happy.

It was the year they had caught Henry Bowers with all of those things in his room, belongings of some of the missing kids, right after he had murdered his own father. Eddie wondered how bad a dad would be so you could want to kill him. He didn’t remember his dad, no matter how many times his mom talked about him. Eddie missed him sometimes, somehow, but then he remembered there were dads like Henry Bower’s or like Beverly’s, and he didn’t miss him anymore. 

“Hey, guess what?” Richie tackled him after class, almost making him trip and fall. Eddie complained but Richie didn’t pay attention. “I convince my dad to buy the new Judas Priest album.”

“You’re joking.” Eddie opened his eyes wide. He instantly forgot he was mad at Richie for almost making him fall in the middle of the hallway.

“I promised I would get the basement spotless clean and he agreed.”

“And you really cleaned up?” Eddie gave him a doubted look. Richie laughed.

“You could lick the floor, EddiOs SpaghettiOs,” Richie said. It made Eddie gag. “So, what? Are you coming?”

Good question. Eddie would have said yes immediately any other time. He liked Judas Priest. He liked rock music probably as much as Richie, but his mom wouldn’t let him play any of those kinds of records home. Devil music, she said. Maybe she was right, but Eddie liked it anyway. It made him feel like he could be angry and scream through it, like there was someone else who understood him.

But coming to Richie’s house… It made Eddie’s stomach turn. He didn’t want to be alone with Richie. He knew no one else would come together because hardly any other Loser liked that type of music except for maybe Bev, but her dad would never let her go to Richie’s house. Bev’s dad only let her go to Ben’s because Ben was “harmless”. No one would say that about Richie. Eddie knew that well enough.

“I think I should go home, actually?” Eddie said with a smile he knew looked nothing real. He tried anyway. “Mom said I needed to help her move some heavy stuff in the basement.”

“Oh,” Richie said, and Eddie could see the disappointment on his face, but also the obvious knowledge of Eddie’s lie. Help his mom move some heavy stuff? What was he thinking? His mom wouldn’t let him go even near any possible danger, let alone encourage him to do any heavy lifting. What if he hurt himself? What if he dropped it on his foot and broke it? Dammit, he should have thought of a better excuse, but it was too late now. Riche knew. He didn’t say a thing, though. “Okay, Eddie. Maybe tomorrow?”

“Sure,” Eddie nodded and smiled. 

This time it was clearly a lie.

Eddie just wanted everything to go back to the way they were. He knew it was his fault, he knew he had fucked it up that night. Usually, it was Richie the one who messed things up because of his stupid mouth, but it had to be Eddie who had to say too much. Or maybe not enough. He started it anyway, and everything went to hell, and then Richie…

Eddie just couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help looking at Richie and seeing him the same way he saw him that night. He couldn’t help remembering Richie’s shiny eyes and Richie’s shaking hands stroking Eddie’s back to help him calm down, and Richie’s breath so loud, so close to him, and the silence. The fucking silence. The darkness.

He didn’t want things to change, but it was difficult to just act normal. He didn’t want to avert Richie’s eyes or to decline every time he asked to hang out together, or to flinch every time Richie put a hand on him. It hurt, watching Richie’s face fall and pretend he didn’t notice or pretend he didn’t care, but Eddie knew him well enough and Richie wasn’t as good as an actor he thought himself to be. It was obvious Richie knew something was wrong with Eddie. It was obvious Richie knew there was something wrong with both of them. It was obvious it hurt him, but Eddie didn’t know what to do about it.

The other guys noticed too. Eddie knew and he hated it, the looks, the way they talked to each of them when they were all together, the way they chose their words carefully. And he knew it was just a matter of time before they started asking questions, because they always asked, because they were their friends. It was not the first time Eddie and Richie had been weird with each other, they had fought plenty of times, for the pettiest reasons, and the rest of the losers knew it was for the best to just leave them alone. This time was different, though. This time they were starting to worry, and it showed. Eddie was starting to worry too, but not because of whatever was going on between Richie and him, but because he really, really didn’t want to answer any question.

He just wanted to be left alone. 

He wanted them to stop looking and to stop talking and to just go back to be the way it used to be. And yes, he knew things were weird between him and Richie but that didn’t mean it had to be weird between all of them, it didn’t mean they couldn’t act like friends, like they always had. But it was a matter of time someone asked the first question (probably Bill or Beverly) and then everyone would be asking stupid questions Eddie didn’t have an answer for (unless it was an equally stupid answer). And he didn’t want to be told he was stupid because he already knew, okay? He knew he was stupid, he knew he was a coward, he knew he was a tiny, scared, little baby. He didn’t need anybody to remind him.

And so...

“Did something happen?” Stan asked one afternoon. They’d been in the arcade for hours and Richie was still running around with pockets full of quarters trying every new game before blowing all his money playing Dig Dug or Space Defenders. Eddie had walked away after playing a few games and now he was standing on a corner.

“There’s a new Spiderman issue I want to buy, so I don’t want to spend too much in here,” Eddie said because he supposed that’s what Stan was asking. Eddie was usually the one running around along with Richie, trying every stupid game Richie wanted to try, so he could understand why Stan would find his behavior odd.

“That’s not what I mean. I mean did something happen with Richie. You’re both acting strange.” Stan replied.

So it was Stan after all. Eddie sighed, looking away.

“It’s nothing. He’s just…being too _Richie_ today,” he said. He hoped Stan understood. 

“Did he…” Stan started, but he stopped himself. When Eddie looked back at him, Stan looked hesitant. Eddie raised a questioning eyebrow. “Did he tell you?”

“Tell me what?” Eddie asked, and now it was his time to be confused. Stan cleared his throat and his face changed in a way Eddie didn’t know how to explain. 

“It’s nothing. It’s just… I’m sure he’ll tell you, tell us, everybody, uh…” Stan cleared his throat again. “I think I’m going to play Defender.”

Eddie watched him go away and wondered if he should just go home.

  
  


**

  
  


When it happened, Eddie knew. They all knew already, but nobody talked about it because it wasn’t something you were supposed to talk about. When Richie talked about guys or made sexual comments or say he would do this or that to a guy the same way he would say it about a girl, the rest of the Losers just played along and didn’t think any further than Richie being Richie. They never mentioned it when Richie wasn’t there because why would they do that? They didn’t care, and if they did, they couldn’t do anything about it anyway.

They were losers, they were outcasts, they were the ones that didn’t fit the standards of society. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Richie didn’t fit the standard when it came to… _that_. But that didn’t mean they should talk about it, that didn’t mean Eddie had to think about it. They were all friends and they loved each other, but Eddie didn’t have to like everything, every single thing, about his friends. And that was okay.

It was their sophomore year, spring had come and the days were getting nicer, so they decided to hang out in the Barrens. 

Richie knew they’d be there around 05:00 pm, he knew because they all were supposed to be there at that hour. Ben and Eddie would bring some comic books, and Stan would bring some board games, and Bev and Bill would bring some food, and Richie was supposed to bring his fucking guitar. He was supposed to bring his guitar, goddammit! 

A guitar, not a guy!

They were already there when the rest arrived, Richie and some random guy Eddie had never seen in his life. Richie knew they were coming and still he brought a guy along. He knew they were coming and he didn’t care. 

He knew they were coming and he kept kissing that guy like they weren’t there. 

He knew they were coming. 

He wanted them to _see it_.

The guy jumped and tried to hide when Bill cleared his throat as they got closer. Richie held him, a hand around the guy’s waist, and gave him a shit-eating grin. Eddie felt his stomach twisting.

“It’s okay. They’re my friends. They don’t care. Right?” Richie asked them.

“Oh, we don’t care,” Beverly said with a tiny giggle. She looked like she found the situation funny.

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Bill agreed, and everybody nodded. Everybody seemed to be perfectly okay with it. Eddie wasn’t.

Eddie was just…

Eddie was…

“And who are you?” He asked directly at Richie’s friend. The rest looked at him like he had said something bad. “What? I’m being polite. I want to know his name. I’ve already seen his tonsils, the least he can do is to tell me his name.”

Stan scoffed a laugh, Beverly opened her eyes wide in an amusing way. The rest didn’t seem so amused. Eddie didn’t care. He didn’t even… _know_ what he was feeling at the moment. He just knew his chest felt tight and his heart was hammering inside and he wanted answers to questions he didn’t even understand.

“This is Jason. He’s from Bangor,” Richie explained, putting a hand on the guy’s shoulder. Richie had a smile on his face. He usually had, but right now Eddie wanted to punch it off. “I met him at the mall.”

“And why isn’t he at the mall, then?” Eddie asked. 

He didn’t mean to be rude. Or maybe he did. Fuck. The rest of the Losers were looking at him like he had lost his fucking mind. Eddie wasn’t rude, not to strangers at least, and not even to his friends unless he was really pissed off. But he _was_ really pissed off. He just didn’t understand why.

“What the fuck, man?” Richie scoffed an awkward laugh. He didn’t know what was going on either. Jason on the other hand, looked at Eddie like he had it all figured out.

“It’s okay, Rich. I need to get going anyway. It’s getting late,” Jason said. Richie looked at him frowning, then he looked back at Eddie.

“Okay,” Richie nodded. “Come on, I’ll ride with you,” he said, picking up his bike from where it was lying on the ground. The guy, Jason, did the same. They both jumped on their bikes. 

Shit, Richie was _leaving_ . Richie was leaving with him. They were leaving _together_.

“Are you really going to leave now?” Eddie felt desperate, and even more when he saw none of the others seemed even slightly bothered by what was happening.

“Yes, Eddie. I’m leaving,” Richie said, and now he sounded annoyed. Eddie felt a lump in his throat. Was he annoying him? Richie had never acted like that, ever. Eddie didn’t know it was possible.

But it clearly was. Considering the way Richie didn’t even look at him, the tone he used, his body language, it was clear he wanted Eddie as far away from him as possible. He didn’t even say anything else, didn’t say goodbye, or tell them he’d be back later. Maybe he wouldn’t be back later. Maybe he would keep making out with that guy somewhere else.

Eddie didn’t know what else to say, so he stood there like an idiot, watching Richie and Jason leave on their bikes, feeling angry and mad and on the verge of a panic attack but, above all, betrayed.

What was that?

What the fuck was that?

When he finally moved and looked around, the rest of the Losers had already entered the hideout. Eddie walked down the stairs unable to process everything that had happened. He was ready to discuss it with the rest, to share impressions, to talk shit, to vent.

When he got down there, though, he couldn’t believe what he saw. His friends were acting like nothing had happened. They were just doing their things, reading fucking comic books, playing with a stupid yo-yo, just being… normal.

“Am I the only one freaking out here?” Eddie asked, looking around, waiting for some moral support. Everybody looked at him like he was crazy.

“What do you mean?” Stan asked. His calmness was driving Eddie even more crazy.

“So it’s fine with you. With all of you,” Eddie insisted. Ben looked away. Mike looked uncomfortable. Bill looked mad.

“Is wh-what fine, Eddie? Wh-what exactly are y-you talking about?”

“Are you guys all blind? Am I the only one who saw that shit?” He pointed back. “Richie was making out with that… _guy._ ”

“Richie was being R-Richie. So what?”

“So what??” Eddie couldn’t believe it. “He was… They were…”

“Is this because he’s a guy?” Ben asked quietly. Eddie turned to look at him. 

“No! I mean…” No? Was Eddie really sure about that?

“He’s done that with girls before and you’ve never freaked out,” Stan pointed out, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“He’s not— I…” Eddie babbled, shook his head. That was not the point! “He hasn’t done that here! He doesn’t… I’ve never seen him do that!”

“So the problem is the making out itself?” Beverly asked, like she was trying to understand. “You don’t want to see them kiss?”

“Bill and Bev kiss in front of us all the time…” Ben said in a kind of hurtful way. Eddie was getting exasperated. Why were they giving him the third? He wasn’t the one doing weird stuff around.

“Is it R-Richie the one you don’t want to s-see kissing other people?” Bill asked, and that was _enough_.

“What??” Eddie nearly screamed, his face and ears red because he was mad. His heart jumping inside his chest, his skin feeling hot and sticky. “I don’t give a fuck who Richie kisses. I don’t care at all, okay? He could kiss the whole town for all I care, he could fuck them all, get all the boys in town to gangbang him. I don’t care.”

“It does seem the opposite,” Stan commented in a casual way.

Fuck it.

“Fuck you. Fuck off. I’m out of here.”

Eddie needed to remove himself from the situation as soon as possible or he would start fucking screaming bloody murder. He climbed up the stairs, ignoring the weirded looks the rest of his friends were giving him, taking his bike and pedaling as fast as he could to get away from there.

In moments like these, he just wanted to run away. Maybe it was a flaw of character, maybe he was too much of a coward to face his fears or his doubts or himself, and running away always looked like the best option. He wished he could do it for real, running away from Derry, running away from that stupid town, from his stupid mom, from Richie. He would hide for a while or change his name, or maybe he wouldn’t even need to because surely Richie wouldn’t go looking out for him. He was too busy sucking faces now.

Fuck, and what did he care anyway? He didn’t need Richie. Richie was the source of all his problems, Richie was the one who was making Eddie feel like this in the first place. Hell, why did Eddie have to run away? Why didn’t Richie leave already and stop making Eddie a mess? Because he was leaving. Of course, he was leaving. Richie had made it clear, he wouldn’t wait for anyone. He was leaving the moment they finished high school and they would probably never see each other again. And that was _good_. Eddie didn’t need him. Eddie didn’t…

“Shit,” Eddie cursed, stopping his bike when the tears in his eyes wouldn’t let him see the road properly. 

He let the bike fall on the ground by the side of the bridge and leaned on it. The kissing bridge. Eddie was surprised Richie wasn’t there with Jason. Fucking Jason. Would Richie have carved their names in there? Eddie didn’t want to look. He really didn’t, but his curiosity was worse than whatever he could find, so he did. He looked.

No Richie.

No Jason.

He would never admit he felt relieved because it was a stupid feeling that didn’t make sense anyway. Seeing Richie and Jason’s names in there wouldn’t have changed anything. Eddie wasn’t… jealous or anything. He was just. He was… He felt betrayed.

Richie was his best friend. He had been since they were kids, since they were only Bill and Richie and Eddie. And when Stan came too, that only made his and Richie’s friendship stronger. Same with Ben. Same with Bev. Same with Mike. They were all friends, they were best friends, but they were not Richie and Eddie, because Richie and Eddie were something else. 

_R + E_

Eddie opened his eyes wide when he saw the carving, cold sweat running down his spine. What the fuck? Was that a fucking joke? Did the universe hate him that much?? He dusted his clothes and took his bike, riding away from there as far as he could, cursing whoever was Rachel and Ethan, or Robert and Ellie, or any other stupid fucking couple whose names started with R + E.

He got home and run upstairs immediately, ignoring his mom’s questions (Eddie-bear? Why are you home so early? Did something happen? Did you eat something bad? Are you hurt??). He couldn’t win with that woman. She couldn’t stop worrying about every fucking thing. She would worry if Eddie came home early, she would worry if Eddie came home late, and she would worry if he came home on time because there was no way a goddamn day would pass by where there wasn’t anything worrying about Eddie for his mom to point out.

Eddie got in the bathroom and closed the door (not locked, there were no locks on the doors inside the hose. You could hurt yourself, Eddie-bear, and what would I do then?). He looked at himself in the mirror. His mom was crazy, Eddie knew already, but today she did have something to worry about. Eddie closed his eyes, opened them again. The pictures wouldn’t leave his mind. Flashes. Like a bad movie playing on repeat in his head. Richie’s hands, his lips, his stupid laugh. Kissing. Touching. Fuck, why did Eddie had to see that?

“Shut up!” Eddie yelled at himself, at his head. Shut up. Don’t even mention it. Don’t even think about it! But his head wouldn’t stop, and now the silent question was getting louder and louder.

What if it was him? What if it was Eddie who Richie was kissing? What if it was him getting touched and kissed and smiled at? What if he could feel the warmth of Richie’s lips opening against his mouth, Richie’s hands on his face. A whisper.

_Is this okay?_

“FUCK!” Eddie punched the bathroom sink right at the moment Sonia opened the door.

“Eddie!” She called. Eddie turned away with eyes big as saucepans, shaking like he had been caught doing something wrong. But he hadn’t done anything wrong! He hadn’t!

“Mom…” Eddie squeaked. He felt like throwing up. “I think I’m sick.”

“Oh my, Eddie! Eddie-bear, what is it??” She run towards him, holding his face, checking his temperature with her lips on his forehead. “Honey, you have a fever!” Sonia sounded worried, but she always was so Eddie wasn’t sure if she was right or not. “I’ll call the doctor immediately!”

He could hear his mom walk down the stairs as quickly as possible, grabbing the phone, dialing the number she already knew by heart. Eddie closed the bathroom door again, taking off his clothes and turning on the faucet.

Sick. He was sick. People said it all the time, homosexuality was a disease. It was a disease and Richie had it! There was nothing wrong with Eddie, he had done nothing wrong! Those thoughts in his head weren’t his, it was just like a fever dream. He was sick. He had caught it from Richie.

He got into the scalding water, letting it pour all over him. He grabbed the sponge and squeezed a great amount of gel on it, starting to scrub himself clean. He needed to get rid of it. He needed to get clean. It hurt, the abrasive sponge and the hot water was turning Eddie’s skin red, and the steam was so thick it was almost suffocating, but Eddie didn’t mind. It would be just once, just this once.

He would never let Richie touch him again.

  
  



	3. XVI The Tower (upright)

Visiting the Tozier’s brings back too many memories Eddie didn’t even remember making in the first place. Maggie does look hip, no matter how much Richie laughs about that word. Wentworth looks the same, but only now Eddie realizes how much Richie looks like his father. They do go together, Richie and Eddie. It would be ridiculous to go visit Richie’s family by himself and so he tells Richie. They’re adults. They should be able to act like ones.

It’s still awkward as fuck. 

They ride together in Richie’s car and it’s probably one of the most uncomfortable situations Eddie has ever lived. They don’t talk, at all. The house is just a few miles away but it feels like they’re traveling across the fucking country. Getting out of the car feels like being able to breathe again.

Eddie wonders if Richie feels the same. The moment they get to his parents’ house he stays around for a few minutes before excusing himself and going upstairs. Maggie offers Eddie a cup of coffee and Eddie tries not to think about it too much. She asks Eddie about his life in Chicago, about work. She and Wentworth tell him they’re proud of him and Eddie can’t help but smile at that. Wentworth says something about how Eddie should teach Richie some work ethics and they all laugh. Eddie guesses they don’t know it’s been years since Eddie has had a proper conversation with Richie. It’s okay. They don’t need to know.

“And how’s your mom?” Maggie asks then. “It’s been a while since I last saw her,” she says. Well, same, Maggie. Same.

“She’s fine, yeah. I… I haven’t seen her yet, I’ll probably go home later. I’ve just been so busy…” Eddie tries to excuse himself, but Maggie doesn’t ask anything else. She understands. She always has.

Richie comes down right when Eddie says goodbye to the Toziers, like he had been waiting for the right moment to reappear. They walk out of the house together, once again not sharing any words. They go to Richie’s car and Richie beeps it open.

“Are you going to your mom’s house?” Richie asks. So he was hearing the conversation after all. Eddie should ask him about his peeping habits, but the question Richie is asking is too important to let it go. “I can drive you.”

He doesn’t need to. Their houses aren’t that far apart. That’s not the problem, though.

“I just… I don’t know if I’m ready.” Eddie says. It’s been too long. He doesn’t even know if his mom would open the door if she knew it was him knocking.

“I’ll go with you,” Richie says, he offers. 

Eddie looks at him.

He doesn’t need to do that. Richie doesn’t need to go along with Eddie. He knows Sonia hates him, always has. Richie always tried to play it down but nobody likes to go someplace where they know they’re not wanted. Also, why would he do it anyway? It’s not like they’re having fun together. They’re hardly looking at each other, they’re uncomfortable, they’re…

They’re drawn together, Eddie guesses. Like they always were.

“Yeah, thanks. That’d be nice,” Eddie smiles. He’s not looking at Richie but he does smile. It’s something. Maybe.

“No problem, Eds.”

Eds. Goddammit, there’s that churn in his stomach again.

They get in the car. Richie drives. They don’t say anything else.

It ends up being easier than Eddie expected, going to see his mom. Easier in the sense Eddie can’t manage to see her at all, even if he does everything he can to do it. He knows she’s home. Her car is parked right in front of the house and, although she rarely drives lately he knows she wouldn’t leave the house without it. She doesn’t open the door, no matter how many times Eddie knocks and rings the bell.

“She’s mad at me,” Eddie offers an explanation although Richie hasn’t asked for one. “She didn’t like it when… Myra and I broke up. She really liked her.”

She didn’t, but Myra was a better option than… well, reality.

“She’ll come to her senses…” Richie says. “You just need to find a better girlfriend.”

Eddie nods and scoffs a laugh. Yes. Of course.

Richie drives him back to the hotel and walks him to his room. He doesn’t need to and Eddie doesn’t ask, but it feels like the natural thing to do. Eddie actually forgets Richie isn’t staying at the hotel too until he stops at Eddie’s door and says goodnight. It’s not even that dark outside yet.

If it was Eddie’s house he could invite Richie in for a drink. He probably wouldn’t do it anyway. Richie wouldn’t accept.

“Thanks for… you know,” Eddie says. “I guess I needed the support. I’m not that brave.”

“You are,” Richie replies. They’re looking at the floor. Both of them. Like idiots. “Anyway… you know you can ask me anything, Eddie.”

“Sure…”

Can he, though? Eddie doubts it.

“So… see you tomorrow,” Richie moves a hand, and it looks like he’s going to touch Eddie’s arm, a friendly goodbye, just for a second. He pushes his hands into his pockets instead.

You can touch me. Eddie wants to say it. He wants to ask for it, maybe. Can you touch me?  _ Can’t _ you touch me? I won’t flinch. Not anymore.

Or will I.

Shit.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Eddie nods. Richie smiles at him but doesn’t look at him in the eyes. He leaves. Eddie closes the door and sighs.

  
  
  


**

  
  


Thursday morning is hazy. Eddie can’t see too far away when he looks out through his window. It makes him think of darker times, times when Derry felt hazy all the time. He takes a shower and goes down to the cafeteria where Stan and Patty are having breakfast already. Bill and Beverly don’t join them until two hours later.

There’s a lot of movement around the hotel, and they realize it’s just a day before the reunion takes place. They think about asking the staff to let them see the venue where the party would take place, but they think better. There’s a possibility they’re not the only ones who had chosen that hotel to stay during their visit, so the chances to come across some old classmates are high. Eddie is not in the mood to make small talk with people who used to torment him when he was a kid.

“Do you guys know where we should go?” Bill asks, flashing a smile. “The clubhouse. The hideout. Do you guys think it’s still in place?”

“Ben did a totally awesome work, I bet it’s still functional,” Beverly says.

It is. Eddie can’t believe it when they finally get there (he misses his bike now more than ever), but the clubhouse looks exactly like it did years ago. Maybe somehow filthier because of the years without using it, but not a lot. It wasn’t that clean when they used it anyway.

“Jesus, I feel like a kid again,” Mike says, his smile so bright it lights up the place. “I don’t know why I never thought about coming back here.”

“It is like time hasn’t passed at all,” Ben agrees, looking around.

“Yeah, I bet there are some of your dirty magazines still lying around,” Richie jokes. Ben turns red.

“I never—! That was you!” He tries to defend himself, but everybody is laughing.

They start sharing old stories, stories Eddie remembers well and stories he had forgotten. It’s nice to have Patty there because it’s lovely to see her smile hearing how much of an asshole and still the best of friends Stan was. That hideout was the only place they could be who they really were, they didn’t need to pretend. And maybe it’s because that feeling is still there, Beverly starts talking about Tom. She’s engaged. They’re supposed to be planning the wedding soon, but she’s not sure. She loves him, or she thinks she loves him, but coming back to Derry makes her think about how much he reminds her of her dad sometimes.

“You don’t need to do it,” Ben says, and everybody looks at him like they can’t believe he actually said something about it. They all know how Ben feels about Beverly, even Beverly knows, but he never said a thing, not like this. “Sorry, I just… I mean it. Just because you’re engaged doesn’t mean you have to marry him. Not if it doesn’t feel right.”

“That’s right, Bev,” Mike joins him. “Don’t do it for the wrong reasons. You got out of here to be able to do what really made you happy. You don’t need to rush it if you’re not sure.”

“Thanks, guys,” Beverly smiles, and she hugs Ben sitting by her side. Eddie wonders if everybody sees it as clear as he does. Those two belong together. He can’t believe they don’t realize yet.

“I almost propose,” Eddie says suddenly. Everybody looks at him. “Uh… I’m just saying it because… you know,” he moves his hands, pointing at Bev. “I just. We started dating, me and Myra, and she was a nice girl, she was… she was attentive and caring and she always… She loved me. She really did. And I think I loved her too, so I thought, I don’t know, why not?” He chuckles, feeling a little nervous, looking at his hands. He doesn’t know why he’s telling everyone this. “I found myself trying to find reasons why  _ not _ to propose, because she really seemed like the one. She always took care of me, she made most of my meals so I could eat good food, she made sure my clothes were the best fabric so it wouldn’t give me any allergies, she kept track of my medicines, she… she worried a lot about me.”

“She sounds like your mom,” Richie interrupts him. Eddie stops talking and everybody else looks away. Richie shrugs. “I’m just saying. You were looking for a reason not to marry her. I wouldn’t like to marry my mom. And she sounds exactly like yours.”

“Beep-beep, Richie,” Bill holds him. Richie just shrugs again and looks away.

“Anyway…” Eddie presses his lips into a thin line, trying to ignore what Richie just said. “What I realized was… I was looking for reasons not to marry her. Like… maybe, if I needed to find a reason not to marry her… it was because I didn’t want to marry her.”

They all fall into silence. Eddie sighs. Shit, he had never said that out loud.

“If you guys don’t mind, I’d like to say something…” Patty speaks then, and everybody turns to look at her. She seems a little nervous, but Stan puts a hand on her shoulder and she smiles. “I think… I think marriage is not something you should find reasons to do or not. I think it should feel like… like the natural thing to do. When you look at that person, you should think, well, of course we’re getting married. Maybe not today, or maybe not tomorrow, but we’re getting married because I can’t think of anything else I could want to do more.”

Beverly smiles and nods, and they all seem to agree with Patty. They all also seem to agree there will be a wedding soon and it won’t be Beverly’s and Tom’s. Watching Stan and Patty makes Eddie wish he could have that same something with someone too.

“Do you guys know I never kissed Myra?” Eddie gives them a pained smile, closing his eyes and sighing. “I mean, we did kiss, of course. We were together for three years, but I never… I never initiated it. She was always the one to do it and I just kissed her back. But I just couldn’t… I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t feel right.”

“I think that’s a pretty good reason not to get married, man,” Ben says, and Stan nods in agreement.

“I know, I just… I guess, for a moment, I just thought I wouldn’t be able to find anyone else to love me that much, or even enough,” Eddie confesses.

“You will find the right girl, honey,” Beverly smiles at him, stroking his shoulder gently. Eddie smiles too but shakes his head.

“No, I don’t think so,” he says, and he feels a heavy weight in his chest, the twist in his stomach. He looks at the faces of his friends and knows what they’re thinking. They’re pitying him, thinking maybe Eddie needs to work on his self-esteem, or ready to give him a speech about real love but… no, they don’t get it. They don’t get it. “It’s not that, it’s just…” He feels like throwing up. He’s going to say it. Will he be able to say it? If he says it, it means it’s real. Is he ready for it to be real? 

“Eddie, honey…” Beverly starts, but Eddie moves his hand up. He’s ready. He looks around and looks at everyone. Deep breaths, Kapsbrak.

“I just mean I don’t think I can find the right  _ girl... _ ”

“Fuck no,” Richie suddenly cuts in, getting everyone’s attention. He’s shaking his head as he stands up. Eddie feels a knot in his throat. “This is bullshit.” Richie grunts and, without another word, he climbs up the wooden stairs and disappears.

“What the fuck?” Beverly looks outraged. “What is wrong with him?”

“Should I go look for him?” Ben asks. Eddie shakes his head.

“No. Guys. It’s… it’s okay. I understand.” He does. Sadly, he does. 

“Well I don’t,” Bill says, “so c-can you explain?”

“I guess…” Eddie chuckles a pained laugh. “I guess he anticipated what I was going to say. And he didn’t like it.”

“And what were you going to say, Eddie?” Mike asks.

That’s a good question. Eddie takes a deep breath. Now that Richie obviously knows, it’s pointless keeping it from the rest of the guys, right?

“I was going to say… I can’t find the right girl because… I think I need to find the right guy.”

Silence. 

Not for long, maybe for a few seconds, but the first reaction is silence. Not anger, not disgust, not disdain, not even surprise. Just silence. And then,  _ joy?  _ Eddie frowns when everybody smiles.

“Oh, Eddie!” Beverly goes in for a hug. It’s too sudden and it takes Eddie by surprise, but he hugs her back anyway. “Thanks for telling us, honey.”

“Yeah, man. Thanks for trusting us,” Mike pats Eddie’s back.

“But why did Richie leave?” Ben asks, now more confused than before. “Why does that bother him so much?”

“He’s such an asshole…” Bill complains.

“I guess he’s… I guess he’s mad at me because how I handled things back then, back when he…” Eddie takes a deep breath. This is the last thing he wants to think about right now. “I couldn’t be true to myself back then. I couldn’t. I still can’t even… it’s still hard. My mom still doesn’t talk to me since I told her after I broke up with Myra, and I’m a grown-ass man, I…” Eddie laughs again, covers his face with his hands. “Richie was always braver than me. He never cared about what other people said. He probably thinks I’m a pussy.”

“He did care.” When Eddie looks up, he sees Stan watching him closely. He hasn’t moved from where he was sitting, but his face has changed. “He did care about what people said. Maybe not most people, but the right ones could really hurt him,” he added, looking at Eddie. “Anyway, I’m glad you shared this with us. You know we’ve got your back.”

  
  


**

  
  


Eddie wakes up the next morning feeling like a train hit him. His head hurt, his body hurt, and he’s not in the mood to see any of his former schoolmates at all. He slept like shit, always waking up in the middle of the night startled, feeling like he was missing something, only he didn’t know what. He still doesn’t know what is it, but the feeling remains in the morning.

Apart from that, he doesn’t feel any different. And he should, or so he thought. He should because, well… he did it.

He did it. He’s out. 

Fuck, he’s out.

He told his friends he liked guys. And it’s true he had told his mom first but, honestly, those guys were his real family. And it’s also true he hasn’t used the word “gay”, let alone “homosexual”, but he’s still working on a lot of things and, naming names, using labels, it just brings back too many bad memories. But he’s out. He’s out and that means… Well, that means he can go fuck himself because nothing has really changed except for the fact that Richie hasn’t spoken to him since yesterday.

It doesn’t surprise him as much as he thought it would, but it still hurts. Even if Eddie deserves it. He does deserve it. Bill and Bev act like Richie’s out of his mind when they met for breakfast. Maybe they don’t remember what happened. Stan doesn’t say a word. He does remember, Eddie is pretty sure.

“Are you guys wearing anything fancy tonight?” Bill asks. “I kinda forgot this was a formal event,” he makes a face.

“I’m wearing something I designed,” Beverly says. “I’m working on a small collection and I hope we can start selling soon.”

That makes everybody start talking about their jobs, so Eddie doesn’t need to say he’s wearing one of the suits he wears for work because he couldn’t think of anything better. He finishes his breakfast and excuses himself. He can feel Stan’s eyes following him but Eddie tries to pretend he’s not aware.

He kind of hides for the rest of the day, tells the other guys he’s going to try and visit his mom again, see if she opens the door this time. He doesn’t. He does think about it, but he knows it would be useless anyway. He wants to go back to the Tozier’s, he wants Maggie to smile at him and Wentworth to pat his back and tell him he’s a good kid. He wants Richie to speak to him, even if it’s just to tell him how much of an asshole Eddie has been. He wants them to fight if that’s what it takes to fix things, but wasn’t a fight what fucked everything up between them?

That night, fixing a tie that never looks good, Eddie looks at himself in the mirror and wonders if he could ever feel right. He thought coming out to his friends would make the difference, would lift the weight on his shoulders, would free him. He still feels the same. He still feels like shit.

  
  


*

  
  


He arrives late to the gathering, and not even fashionably late, but really late, especially considering he only needed to take the elevator down from his room to the reunion hall. He could hear the awful music before he walked through the doors. As glad as he was they hadn’t made the reunion inside the high school building, whoever planned the decoration and the theme of the gathering has managed to make it feel exactly like that dreaded place, so it still makes Eddie feel like a kid about to get called a “pansy” by a bunch of girls with stupid giggles.

“Eddie, where have you been, man! We’ve been looking for you!” Mike startles him, throwing an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and smiling brightly at him. Eddie smiles too because it’s literally impossible to resist one of those smiles.

“Got in trouble with the tie,” Eddie says, pointing at his neck.

“But you’re not wearing a tie.”

“Exactly.”

They’ve saved a seat for Eddie at their table, but nobody is sitting except for Bill and Stan, who are talking about something very passionately. On the dance floor, Richie and Beverly are dancing, and Ben is talking with Patty and another girl who looks an awful lot like Beverly.

“That’s Audra. She finally could make it to the party,” Mike informs, and Eddie makes a face because, come on, Bill. Mike laughs and nods. “Yeah, we all noticed.”

“I think I need a drink.”

Eddie moves to the bar and asks for a dry whiskey, taking a deep breath before taking a deep sip. He should go talk to Richie, apologize, maybe. But what should he say anyway? Sorry I’m gay? Sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner? Sorry I… treated you like a leper when it was me the one who was rotten? Eddie feels a churn in his stomach and drinks a little more. Fuck, Richie is right not talking to him, not after what Eddie did. Maybe that’s the best. Maybe coming to this reunion was what Eddie needed to understand what he did crossed the point of no return.

He leans on the bar and looks at the people, dancing, laughing, happy, and a little drunk. He’s not like them, he never was. He wasn’t like them when he tried to hide himself, isn’t like them now when he’s trying to be himself. He doesn’t belong here, not even in the drunk section. He’s ready to leave when a hand on his shoulder stops him. He needs to look up to see a dirty looking smile.

“If it isn’t Eddie Kaspbrak!” 

Eddie needs a minute to remember the name. Gard Jagermeyer. He looked bigger and dirtier than when they were kids. Eddie tries not to make a disgusted face. “I didn’t know this was a dwarf’s reunion!” Gard laughs loudly, trying to put his hand on Eddie’s head. Eddie pushes it away. “Motherfucker never grew an inch since high school. I bet it’s a real asset now, cocksucker, you don’t even need to kneel!”

“Cut it, man, you’re drunk,” one of the guys Jagermeyer’s with laughs and pushes him, tries to make him move.

“Why, man? I’m giving him a compliment! He’s a flamer, he likes cock, don’t you Kaspbrak?” Gard asks and Eddie feels his blood drain from his face. What does he know? Does he  _ know? _ Shit. Fuck. _ Fuck it _ . Eddie shouldn’t care about this. He doesn’t. “I bet you wanna suck my cock, right?”

Eddie turns around and just walks away. He couldn’t care less about what a useless piece of shit like Gard Jagermeyer could say about him. He’s not twelve anymore, words can’t hurt him, at least not words coming from people he doesn’t care about. A hand grabs his arm, though, keeping him from walking forward.

“The fuck you think you’re doing, Kaspbrak? I’m having a conversation here. Don’t fucking disrespect me.”

Here we go again, just like when he was ten.  _ Why didn’t you die like all of your friends? _ Eddie wants to say that. He’d love to be brave enough, cruel enough, but one of the good things his mom taught him was manners, and he’s still a pussy, so he just closes his eyes and turns around, jerking his arm away, trying to get rid of Jagermeyer’s stinky fingers around him.

“Piss off, man,” Eddie grunts, looking around. They caught the attention of people and now there’s a crowd looking at them. Awesome.

“I asked you a question. Do you wanna suck my cock, flamer?”

Eddie sees the fist impacting Gard’s face before he’s able to process who it belongs to. People gasp, Eddie too, and Gard falls on the floor, maybe because he’s that much drunk or maybe because Richie has punched him that hard. Eddie doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to think.

“What the fuck, Tozier? Do you want me to beat your ass? Wouldn’t be the first time,” Jagermeyer spits, and Eddie is waiting for Richie to say something, to make a joke, to mock Gard’s teeth or lack of style or the hairs growing on his ears. He expects Richie to be Richie, but Richie doesn’t open his mouth.

Richie doesn’t talk. He just looks at Gard like a bull looks at a bullfighter. Eddie decides if Richie won’t talk maybe he should. Richie has punched a guy for him, for God’s sake! But Gard stands up faster than a man his weight should be able to and, before Eddie can think about what to do, he’s tackled Richie and they both fall on the floor. People gather around closer. It’s like high school all over again, only now Richie fights back. Richie  _ fights. _

“What the fuck, stop it!!” Eddie hears a girl screaming and it sounds like Marcia Fadden. Years ago she would be the one cheering on Gard to beat the shit out of Richie. Eddie guesses people can change after all. Some of them.

It’s quick, quicker than it used to be or maybe quicker than Eddie remembers. When he was a kid it seemed like they would get beaten and tormented for hours. Now they are older, they get tired faster and, when Ben and Mike hold Richie back, a couple of other guys doing the same with Gard, they don’t resist. Gard just calls Richie a faggot and says he needs a drink. Richie spits at him but it lands on the floor. There’s blood in it. That’s when Eddie realizes.

“Shit, you’re bleeding,” he says to Richie like it’s not obvious, like Richie can’t feel his split lip or the nasty bruise on his left cheek. There’s a tiny cut too, on one side of the bridge of his nose, probably from the first punch Gard threw at him, which made Richie’s glasses fly.

“Here,” Mike says, handing Richie his glasses. They are miraculously intact. Richie doesn’t take them. He just looks at Jagermeyer in the distance. 

“Thanks,” Eddie says, taking the glasses himself. “Come on,” he calls, holding Richie’s wrist. Richie doesn’t look at him. “Come on!” Eddie insists again, and this time he doesn’t wait for Richie to answer, he just tugs at him and starts walking.

He’s not really thinking. His head is a mess and Richie not saying one word isn’t helping either. Eddie doesn’t really care. His instincts were telling him getting Richie out of there was the best thing to do and so he’s doing it. He’s also bleeding. Richie is bleeding. Because of him. 

Eddie can’t stand it.

He doesn’t let go of Richie even when they get to his floor, Richie following him like a lifeless puppet. Eddie gets his key out and opens the door of his room. He knew getting a room at the same hotel the reunion would take place was a good idea. He looks at Richie when they get into the room. He’s frowning, like he doesn’t know what Eddie is doing. Eddie understands.

“Sit down here. I’ll… Give me a second,” he says, releasing Richie’s arm and going to the bathroom. He opens one of the cabinets to get his first aid kit. He knows he’s got everything he needs there because he checked it before packing it up, but he double-checks again, just in case, although checking it now wouldn’t really make a difference because Richie is already bleeding in his room and it’s too late to go buy whatever he would need to fix that. Everything is in there, so Eddie comes out of the bathroom.

Richie is sitting on the bed, his back resting on the headboard and his arms around his bended knees. He has taken off his shoes and Eddie can’t help but smile because he really appreciates Richie had thought of him even in a situation like this one. He knows Richie wouldn’t have taken off his shoes if it was his bed.

Eddie takes a deep breath and walks towards the bed, leaving the first aid kit on the bed and sitting in front of Richie.

“We need to clean those up. We don’t want them to get infected,” Eddie says, opening the kit and getting some sterile gauze and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. “I don’t have any gloves, but I washed my hands, so it should be fine,” he explains while he pours some peroxide on the gauze.

Richie still doesn’t say anything, and it’s making Eddie a little nervous, but seeing him covered in blood is much worse, so Eddie hopes Richie’s silence is an agreement to what he just said and moves to start cleaning the wounds.

He starts pressing lightly the cuts on Richie’s nose and his cheek. The first one is not bleeding anymore, and the second only needs a few touches to stop bleeding too. Richie hisses a little but doesn’t complain when Eddie starts cleaning the blood around the bruise, using a couple of gauzes, watching the peroxide make tiny white bubbles when it touches the cut.

“This one isn’t so bad, faces just bleed a lot,” Eddie explains, mostly to fill up the silence. “But I think it’s better to close it with a butterfly bandage, just in case.” He says, taking said bandage and worrying at his bottom lip. He hasn’t been really looking at Richie this whole time, he has focused on the places he was cleaning, but now he needs to get closer and he doesn’t know how to avoid Richie’s eyes. “I just… I’ll put this here… and the other side…” He concentrates on the bandage, putting it so the wound is closed. From this close, he can see the way Richie’s face muscles twitch. At first, Eddie thinks he hurt him, then he realizes Richie is smiling.

“Patch me up, Dr. K,” Richie says. It’s the first thing he’s said to Eddie since they got here and Eddie can’t help but laugh.

“Not the first time you come to my office, kid,” Eddie follows the joke, and they both look at each other with a smile, warmer than others they’ve shared, definitely the warmest since Eddie came back to Derry.

They both fall silent once again while Eddie grabs another gauze and preps it to clean Richie’s split lip. This time he doesn’t use the peroxide, he uses saltwater instead. 

His heart is beating too hard again. Eddie wonders if Richie can hear it. His hands are shaky as he pours the saltwater on the gauze, and now he doesn’t even remember if he should be doing that or it would be better to just pour the saltwater directly on Richie’s lip. He just… He can’t think straight. 

Fuck, they’re so close. Eddie’s mouth feels dry. He tries to swallow but he’s afraid he would sound like a cartoon character. He tries to compose himself, to breathe properly. It’s Richie. Just Richie. He shouldn’t need to… It doesn’t need to be this way. They’re friends. Just friends. Or they were…

Once the gauze is wet, Eddie hesitantly moves it to press it against Richie’s swollen lip. Richie hisses again.

“Sorry, I know it can hurt. The mouth is a really shitty place to have a wound, you cannot clean it completely and it just—“

“I’m sorry, Eddie,” Richie cuts him. Eddie looks up at him, his hand slowly moving away from Richie’s lip. Richie must see the confusion on his face because he continues. “I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

Eddie shook his head, moving his hand back to clean Richie’s lip.

“No, I get it. He was an asshole and you…”

“That’s not what I mean,” Richie says again, holding Eddie’s wrist to stop him cleaning the wound. Eddie gets tense. “I mean… back when we were kids, when we… That night. I’m sorry.”

Eddie looks down immediately, feeling the twist in his guts. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to remember it. Shit, why can’t they forget about it?

“It’s fine,” he shakes his head, trying to sound casual but his voice barely comes out. “I need to… Your wounds, I need to…” He needs to focus on something else, brush off the memories from that night. He needs to keep cleaning Richie’s wounds but he can’t look at his face. He looks around instead, takes Richie’s right hand. His knuckles are bloody too. “Can’t get infected,” he says like a robot, starting cleaning them, pressing the wet gauze on them.

“That’s not mine,” Richie says with a chuckle. “The blood. That’s Jagermeyer’s. Who would have thought...” he says, and he holds Eddie’s hand before Eddie can move it away. “Eddie, please, look at me.”

He can’t. Shit, Eddie can’t do that.

“You don’t need to do this,” Eddie says, like a plea. Richie’s hand is burning around his, and his chest feels too tight to hold his heart in it.

“I’m not… I just. Eds, I’m just sorry, okay?” Richie says again, and Eddie slowly raises his head, afraid of what he would see when his eyes meet Richie’s. “I didn’t mean to. Or, I did. I did mean to, I did, but…”

“Richie, please,” Eddie looks at him. It’s worse than he expected. Richie’s eyes are full of sorrow, full of grief. Is this because of him?

“It was stupid of me. I was a kid, and I…” Richie bites his lips, closes his eyes. Eddie wants to hug him and ask him to stop, tell him it’s fine, tell him it wasn’t his fault. He holds Richie’s hand tighter instead, and it seems that’s enough. “I never wanted to push you away. I know I did exactly that but I didn’t… I didn’t want to, I just. I…” Richie sighs, looking up at Eddie. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

It was Eddie’s turn to look down now. He could say it, he could say it wasn’t Richie’s fault, it was all his, but he can’t. He just looks at Richie’s bloodstained knuckles, touches them with his thumb. How much he would have liked to share this in another context. A room, the silence, the intimacy, a confession. But he walked away from that once, right?

“We were kids,” Eddie finally says. “We were stupid.” I was stupid.

“Yeah, that’s for sure,” Richie agrees. He keeps looking at Eddie, Eddie can feel it. His eyes are burning holes on Eddie’s head.

Eddie throws away the dirty gauze and picks up another one, but this time he doesn’t pour the saltwater on it. He moves forward just a little bit, just enough, not too much. His knees are touching Richie’s but Eddie tries not to think about that when he moves his right hand and holds the gauze under Richie’s split lip.

“You need to get it clean or it will get nasty,” he explains, and he takes the bottle of saltwater with his left hand, brings it up. “I need to rinse the wound. It will sting a bit, but…” He looks up at Richie’s eyes and immediately looks back to the wound on his lip. “Uh. Can you… Can you open up, just a little,” Eddie asks, and Richie just obeys.

He opens his mouth and Eddie pours some saltwater on the wound, using the gauze to soak it so it doesn’t spill. Eddie wonders if Richie can see him shaking. Every time Richie breathes Eddie gets goosebumps, feeling the warm breath on his skin. He touches Richie’s bottom lip with his knuckles accidentally, but Richie doesn’t open his mouth any further. 

“Can you…” Eddie asks, but he tentatively moves his fingers to press gently on Richie’s bottom lip, making him open his mouth a little more.

Shit, he needs to finish this as soon as possible. Can Richie hear his heartbeats? Honest question. Because Eddie definitely can.

“All good, Dr. K?” Richie asks when Eddie puts the gauze and saltwater away. He keeps looking at Eddie, never really stopped.

“I think you’ll be fine,” Eddie nods, and now that it’s all done he realizes how close they are, how there are mere inches separating them.

“Good,” Richie smiles. But he also licks his lips. Bites the bottom one.

“Don’t.” Eddie quickly warns, holding Richie’s jaw before he’s fully conscious of what he’s doing. He feels his cheeks flush, moving his hand away immediately. “I… Don’t do that for a while. That won’t… It won’t help your lip heal if you… bite…”

“Yeah, sorry. I can’t help it,” Richie answers with half a smile. “I guess I’m feeling pretty stupid right now, too.”

Eddie swallows. What the fuck does that mean? Is he implying…? No, shit, Eddie, compose yourself and stop thinking with your dick. He’s not talking about  _ that _ . Richie’s done a lot of stupid things today, he’s not referring to  _ that _ time.

“Yeah, well, that asshole deserved it,” Eddie says and hopes it’s the right answer. At least it’s an answer that would help him not tent his pants.

Richie scoffs a laugh and keeps smiling, but there something in his eyes, on his face, that changes.

“It’s pretty late. I think I should probably go home,” Richie says, moving away from Eddie, standing up. Not the right answer after all.

“Didn’t know you still had a curfew,” Eddie jokes because he’s not brave enough to just ask Richie to stay. He doesn’t have that right anymore. Maybe he never did. And why would he ask him to stay anyway? What could he offer? Stay and just talk to me? Stay and… be my friend? Pathetic. 

Richie just smiles again.

“I promised dad I would help him get some boxes from the attic, see if I want some of my old stuff and throw away the rest. And you know he’s old enough to wake up really fucking early now.”

“He always was,” Eddie laughs, and he stands up too, not sure if he should walk Richie to the door when it’s literally right there. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“Sure. Or, you know, I bet there’ll be another reunion in ten years or so,” Richie jokes.

It’s not funny, but he’s gone before Eddie can think of what to say.

  
  
  



	4. The Fool (reversed)

They were seventeen and Richie didn’t hide anymore. Eddie really really hated it. And the worst thing was the rest of the Losers saw it as a good thing. If Richie didn’t hide among them that meant he trusted them enough to show himself like he really was, to be the real Richie. And apparently, the real Richie didn’t feel any shame in making out and groping random guys every chance he had. Eddie couldn’t stand it.

It wasn’t even always the same guy, but they weren’t one-time hookups either. It was just… Richie would bring someone along to the barrens or to the quarry, and for a few weeks they all would hang out together, and the Losers would accept it like it was nothing, so Eddie would have to see Richie and Random Guy Number X laugh and fool around and act like stupid morons.

It made Eddie almost wish Richie had just gotten a boyfriend and stop this nonsense. But no, Richie always got bored after a week or two, and Random Guy Number X would stop tagging along until a new one appeared. Eddie didn’t understand it. How many queer guys lived in Derry anyway? It was like Richie had some kind of magnet and, the moment he was out, he could attack every curious guy around. It was like… an infection spreading.

“Hey, guys, do you mind my friend Tony coming to the Aladdin this weekend?” Richie asked like he always did. It was always “my friend so and so”. Eddie hated when Richie used that word. It hurt almost more than the whole making out thing.

Friend. His friend. Richie would call them friends even if he had just met them, even if he knew he wouldn’t see them again after a couple of weeks. He used the word friend and, what was worse, he acted like it was real.

“Sure, man. The more the merrier,” Mike said, and no one else seemed to disagree.

And that’s how Eddie would find himself sitting at the movies, looking at the screen without really watching the movie, looking through the corner of his eye at Richie laughing with Tony, throwing popcorn at each other, poking at his ribs, pinching his cheeks, calling him cute and ruffling his hair. It made Eddie feel sick in the stomach.

Sick. Yeah, that was the word, wasn’t it? Eddie was sick. Richie’s bad jokes, his laugh, his stupid grin, his teasing, his touching, it was an infection. Eddie was infected. He was sick.

That was the reason why he would feel like throwing up when he heard Richie make stupid jokes with Tony, when Richie gave him a stupid nickname when they touched and they laughed and Richie rode his bike with Tony sitting on the handlebar. That’s why Eddie felt weak and tired when he watched Richie do it all over again with another guy, and then with another, like it wasn’t important, like it wasn’t special, like it didn’t matter… Like it never mattered, not even when it was Eddie the one who Richie was doing it with, back when they could still look at each other’s eyes.

Exposure. The first cause of infection is exposure. Eddie had been exposed; he was still being exposed. That needed to end. He would never get better unless he could nip in the bud.

“I’m just saying it’s not okay,” Eddie said when the rest of the Losers arrived at Ben’s house. He had called them to tell them they needed to talk about Richie, and he suggested meeting at Ben’s because there they would be safe.

The rest of the guys weren’t so sure. They didn’t want to meet behind Richie’s back to talk about him, they didn’t think they needed to talk about anything, but Eddie insisted. They agreed with the only condition of telling Richie the truth if he ever asked.

“I j-just don’t see the problem, Eddie,” Bill talked. “He’s R-Richie being Richie. He’s n-not acting any different.”

“But he is! He is,” Eddie replied. “He’s bringing people in. And not even… He’s not even asking us. When was the last time we brought someone else to the club? It was Mike! It was fucking Mike, when we were still kids!” Eddie said, pointing to Mike. “We decided he could join us because he was as much of a loser as we were! No offense, Mike,” Eddie made a face. “That was the whole point. We were fucking losers. We went to the Barrens because no one else would go there. Ben built the fucking clubhouse _underground_ so we could have a hideout. I felt safe there. From bullies, from Bowers, from… my mom. And now Richie is bringing random people in every two fucking weeks like it doesn’t matter!”

They all fell in silence, looking at each other.

“I mean, he’s got a point…” Mike talked, looking around. “I did feel safe around you guys. I felt like I had a place I could belong to because it belonged to me too.”

“Exactly!” Eddie reaffirmed, feeling poured up now that Mike had seen his point of view. “Maybe Richie knows those guys, maybe he’s… well, he’s always been more open to people and stuff, but I can’t be myself around people I don’t know! I can’t be myself around people I know would be gone after a couple of weeks.”

“Okay,” Bill said. “Okay, Eddie. I und-derstand. We can tell Richie he can’t bring people to the clubhouse unless he’s d-dating them for real.”

“Yeah, maybe like a month at least?” Beverly suggested. “It’s true we barely know the guys he’s bringing in, and sometimes they’re gone before I even learn their names. I think we could know them better before they can come to the barrens.”

“We can tell him to only bring along people he truly thinks could get along with the rest of us, like… you guys didn’t really know me but you accepted me because you knew I was a loser too,” Mike says, and everybody laughs.

“Okay, we’ll tell Richie he’s only allowed to bring other losers,” Stan followed with a smirk. “Although I’m pretty sure whoever wants to make out with Richie is already a loser.”

“Great. Then we c-can vote for our new rule. Only l-loser boyfriends allowed.”

“No!” Eddie yelled. What the fuck? Did they all had gone crazy? “That’s not… That would be still the same!”

“Eddie, we’re obviously joking,” Bev said. “We’ll tell Richie about your issue and I’m sure he’ll understand.”

Everybody nodded, but Eddie was not done. Now that he had got that out, he needed to get everything else out too.

“It’s not just that…” Eddie said again, not really looking at any of his friends, anticipating their reaction. “I don’t think… I don’t think it’s okay, the whole… the-the _kissing_ , and the… um. This is our place. It’s not some… fuck pad where he can bring anyone he wants. I don’t want to sit on places where another guy’s naked ass has been. It’s unsanitary. It’s gross,” Eddie frowned. “And it’s disrespectful.”

He didn’t know how he did it. He was sure most of his friends didn’t agree with him, but it was also true Eddie was always able to get away with things others wouldn’t because of his germaphobia. It wasn’t far from it, really. Every time he saw Richie touching those guys, kissing them, sharing spit and skin and… Yeah, there it was his germaphobia kicking in. Eddie couldn’t have a clearer sign that Richie was a walking disease.

The guys talked to Richie. They made it look like it was a decision they all had made, but Richie wasn’t stupid. He knew, considering the look he gave to Eddie, that it was all Eddie’s idea. He didn’t seem to care, though. He agreed. When everybody said they should keep the clubhouse a private place just for them, Richie agreed. When they said they should do “couple things” in private, Richie agreed too.

He agreed, then disappeared.

**

By the time they were eighteen, Richie barely showed around the places where they used to hang out together. Neither did Stan or Mike, neither Bill and Bev. The clubhouse was long forgotten, covered in dust the last time Eddie and Ben had gotten in there, old comic books lying on the floor, the hammock hanging just on one end because they never bothered to fix it when it broke down.

It was Eddie’s fault.

He did that to his group of friends.

He created rules and made them follow them, made them prove they really cared about the group, made them feel guilty if they did something wrong. Like some kind of cult, the Loser’s club didn’t allow strangers because how would they feel safe? It didn’t allow kissing because that was a disrespectful thing to do in front of others. In fact, no PDA was allowed, because it could make some of them feel uncomfortable, it would make Eddie feel uncomfortable, and they would want that, right? If they were his friends, they wouldn’t want Eddie to feel bad, they would do what Eddie asked. If you really are my friends, if you really love me, you won’t bring strangers to the club. If you care about me, you won’t kiss someone in front of me. You would accept the conditions of my affection because otherwise, it would mean you don’t really love me, right, Eddie-bear? If you really love me, if you really care about me, you’d do as mommy says.

“Fuck!” Eddie screamed, but it didn’t matter, because there was nobody there. He was sitting on the dirty floor at the clubhouse, looking around at the consequences of his _love_.

_They don’t care about you, Eddie. If they cared, they would be here._

“Shut up!” He pushed his face into his fists, pressing the heels of his hands on his eyes. His head hurt so fucking much.

Maybe it was true, what the voice in his head said. Maybe his friends didn’t care about him, not anymore, but it was Eddie’s fault. Maybe they didn’t care, but Eddie was the first one who put conditions on his love for them. Maybe it was all he had learned, maybe he didn’t know better because mommy only showed unconditional love if Eddie played by her rules, but he knew how that felt. He knew well enough. He knew how it felt to always feel anxious and afraid of not being good enough, of not being able to meet the expectations his mom had for him.

How the fuck did he managed to do that to his friends?

Would it be that bad if Bill and Bev kissed when they were all together? Would it be that bad if Mike brought along some girl he was dating? Would it be that bad if Stan used the hideout as a proper hideout to make out with someone and not be discovered by his dad?

Would it be that bad if Richie did all of that?

Shit, Eddie’s chest was getting tighter. It was hard to breathe. Fuck. Fuck! It would be bad! Yes, it would! Why the fuck did Richie had to be like that? Why couldn’t he just be normal?? Maybe it was Eddie’s fault that everybody had left, but it was Richie’s fault too! Because if he hadn’t… if he weren’t… if it were just girls Eddie could have managed it! If it were just girls, Eddie would have sucked it up and deal with it, and there wouldn’t have been any stupid rule and they would be all still together and fucking happy and being friends!

But Richie had to be like _that,_ showing off like it was something to be proud of, making Eddie feel sick and rotten and… disgusting. Making him want to cry and scream and punch someone in the face. And the worst thing was nobody else understood him. None of the losers seemed to care. They couldn’t give a fuck about what Eddie felt.

“Did you have fun, Eddie?” Sonia asked when Eddie came back home. She was so happy Eddie always came back home early.

“Yes, mommy,” Eddie replied immediately, like an automatic reflex.

“Were your friends with you?” She asked again. Eddie could almost see the anticipation smile on her face.

“No, mommy,” he said.

“Oh, well. You don’t need them, Eddie-bear,” she started saying, but Eddie didn’t hear the rest, he walked upstairs and went to his room.

So that was his life. Eighteen years old and no friends, no car, nothing to do. He would go out every day and hope he would meet one of the losers hanging out somewhere in town, maybe at the Aladdin or the arcade, places they liked when they were kids. Only they weren’t kids anymore, and Eddie didn’t even know what they liked to do now. When they met, they would hang out together like nothing had happened, but it wasn’t that often and Eddie always felt weird.

There was never the seven of them anymore, there was always someone else. Mike got a girlfriend and Bill too (he and Beverly had stopped whatever was going on between them long ago). Bev had friends from out of town and they would come sometimes too. Most of them had a car, and they would just drive away from Derry when they wanted to have fun. They invited Eddie at first, too, but Eddie always declined. He didn’t know those people; they weren’t his friends. And so, he started to be the one who wasn’t anyone’s friend anymore.

At least he was glad he was leaving. Just a few more months and he would be miles away from that place, hoping college would make everything different.

The sound of the phone ringing took Eddie out of his thoughts. His mom picked it up as usual, and Eddie wouldn’t even bother thinking about that call if it weren’t because he could hear his mom hung up almost immediately. Sonia didn’t usually go out with friends, but she would stay on the phone for hours if one of them called. Other than that, not a lot of people called home, maybe the insurance company once in a while, with whom Sonia would speak a long time too.

“Did anyone call?” Eddie asked when he walked downstairs. He wasn’t going to bother walking all the way down to the living room, but his mom pretended not to hear him, and that made Eddie suspicious. “Mom?” He insisted. “Mom!” He needed her to look at him, otherwise, she would keep pretending.

“Honey, I’m—"

“Watching TV, yeah, hold on a minute. Did someone call?” Eddie asked again, fast, giving her no time to turn around her head back to the television screen. She pursed her lips, made a face. “Mom?”

“That Denbrough kid called,” she said, turning her head to the TV. Eddie waited, but nothing else came out of her mouth.

“Well? What did he want??” He could feel it, the bubbling at the bottom of his belly. He wouldn’t throw a fit, not in front of his mother, never in front of her, but oh boy he wanted to.

“Didn’t ask. Didn’t think you cared,” Sonia calmly said without even looking back to Eddie. “I thought you were done going outside for the day, honey.”

“But mom! You didn’t… you didn’t ask? What if something happened??”

“Well, I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow.”

Eddie opened his mouth, then closed it, clenching his jaw. It was useless. So, he took his rage back to his room, wishing he could at least slam the door shut to blow off some steam. He threw himself on the bed. Fuck it. It wouldn’t be that important anyway.

*

“What is it?” Eddie asked. It was a Saturday morning and Bill looked like he had just woken up. Well, suck it, Eddie knew he wouldn’t have been home if Eddie had shown up later, and he needed to know whatever Bill had called for, he wasn’t waiting until morning to see him at school (and a phone call wasn’t a foolproof method).

“What?” Bill rubbed one of his eyes, squinting.

“Come on, Bill, it’s already 9 a.m.!”

“On a S-Saturday…” Bill complained. “What did you want?”

“You called yesterday. My mom picked up.”

“Oh, yeah. She said y-you weren’t interested. Like I was s-some sort of salesman,” he chuckled. Eddie rolled his eyes. “I just c-called to ask you if you wanted to chip in to buy Richie something for his f-farewell party.”

“His what? What??” Eddie shook his head, blinking fast.

What.

“Richie’s…”

“What the fuck, Bill? Is he leaving? When is he leaving? It doesn’t make any sense, what about the finals? Isn’t he going to college? Does he even want to—? Does he—? If this is because of that stupid comedy career he says he… Because that’s stupid, okay? That’s not a career! That’s… And he needs to go to college for that too, anyway! Like, I’m sure there’s like some kind of… _clown_ thing, like artistic shit for making people laugh.” Eddie could feel the tightness of his forehead, his heartbeats running fast. Bill was looking at him like he didn’t know what was going on.

“His f-family is moving,” Bill explained. “A big d-dental company hired his dad and th-they pay really well, so the whole family is leaving.” Eddie blinked again, and opened his mouth, but nothing came out this time. “I th-thought you knew.”

“I don…” Eddie choked on his words, that’s when he noticed he had stopped breathing. “I didn’t know, he didn’t…” he tried again, taking a deep breath. Bill just looked at him with those apologetic eyes. Eddie looked away. “We haven’t talked a lot lately.”

“Well, we’re throwing him a f-farewell party tonight at Mi-Mike’s. His grandpa said we could use the shed. Ben and Bev are t-taking care of that, and I had the idea of m-maybe getting him s-something so he would remember us.”

“A brain would be nice,” Eddie scoffed, and Bill actually laughed. “You say it’s tonight? When is he leaving?”

“Monday m-morning, like really early in the morning, s-so…”

“Oh…” Eddie nodded, trying to swallow the big lump he hadn’t notice installing inside his throat. Bill kept looking at him.

“You’re coming, right?” Eddie looked up. He opened his mouth, but he couldn’t think of what to say. Was he coming? Was he even wanted? “It’s ju-just us. Just the Losers. F-For old time’s sake.”

“Sure,” Eddie nodded, looking down. Shit, that’s what he had become in, right? The party pooper who no one called because they knew he would ruin things unless everyone followed his stupid rules. “I’ll go, if that’s okay with you guys.”

“Come on, Eddie. Of c-course we want you there!”

Yeah, well. Eddie wasn’t so sure.

*

It… felt like old times. They all acted like they used to do, joking and laughing together, playing cards, video games and watching shitty movies, some of them drinking, some of them smoking, but all of them feeling so close it really seemed like time hadn’t passed, like they were still a family. It did feel like old times, and that was why Eddie could see so clearly how much things had changed between him and Richie. They had been best friends, thick as thieves, joined by the hip, and now… now they were strangers. Every time they crossed words Eddie wanted to throw up because of how cold and unnatural it felt.

Nobody seemed to notice or nobody seemed to care, and that’s what made Eddie feel even worse, how the world wasn’t stopping, how their friends weren’t grabbing them by the shoulders and shaking them and forcing them to fix things so it all could go back to normal, how it didn’t matter if they fixed it or not, because what they broke wasn’t that important.

“So, before it gets too late and everybody gets too drunk,” Stan said, making everybody laugh. “I think it’s time to give Richie his present.”

“Oh, Stanley, you’re giving me your body?? Okay, everybody, clear the room, this won’t be appropriate for your sensitive eyes,” Richie said, making grabby hands at Stan, which Stan slapped away.

“Fuck off, man, or I’m gonna beat you with your present,” Stan threatened him while Bill took one giant present from under one of the couches.

“Is it a cock? Is it a giant, fake, rubber cock?” Richie asked while he looked at the present with shiny eyes. His smile grew bigger when he took the present in his hands. “Oh, Jesus, it’s heavy! I don’t think I’ll be able to take it, but I promise you guys I will practice every—“

“Just open it, asshole!” Beverly laughed. “We all chipped in to buy it, so I hope you appreciate it, even if it’s not the best…”

“A BANJO?!” Richie screamed, throwing the box away and holding up the music instrument. He looked at it like it was made of gold.

“Now your Kermit impression is completed!” Mike joked, and they all laugh, including Richie, who was still looking at the banjo like he couldn’t believe his luck.

“I love you guys so much, I’m gonna play it all night long!!”

“Oh, no!”

“I knew it…”

They all groaned and complained and laughed, and Richie hugged Stan because he was the closest, then moved to do the same to Beverly. Eddie watched in terror how Richie had decided to thank every one of them personally, which meant…

“I didn’t do it,” Eddie chimed in. Richie stopped in the middle of hugging Mike. Everybody looked at Eddie. “I… I didn’t chip in, so…”

Great, now everybody looked uncomfortable. Eddie was just trying to spare Richie from hugging him when he obviously didn’t want to.

“It’s… fine, Eddie. It’s the thought that counts,” Mike said, probably trying to uplift the atmosphere.

“No, but I wanted… I don’t want to keep the credit, you know? Because I—“

“We get it,” Richie interrupted him. “I get it, okay?” He chuckled bitterly. Eddie frowned.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I fucking get it, Eddie!” Richie didn’t even look at him.

“No, I think you don’t!”

“Of course I do, God forbid you’d do anything for me…”

“That’s totally not what I meant! I’m just fucking saying…”

“… someone could think you actually give a shit about…”

“I do give a shit! I do!”

“Sure you do,” Richie laughed. He dared to _laugh_.

“Fuck you!” Eddie spat, feeling his stomach twisting. Richie just laughed even more. “You’re the one who doesn’t give a shit about me. That’s you! I would’ve fucking chip in, I would’ve fucking bought the thing by myself if I had known you were _leaving!_ But I had to find out today! Today, Richie! You didn’t even bother to tell me! Is that giving a shit about me?”

“Why would you care I was leaving when you don’t give a shit about me?”

“OH MY GOD!” Eddie brought a hand to his forehead, looking around. Was everybody else listening to what he was listening to? That bunch on nonsense? Eddie looked around, desperate. “Guys?!”

“I t-think we…” Bill stuttered, looking at the others.

“Yeah, we shouldn’t…” Ben looked at the door.

“Oh, okay,” Eddie nodded. So, no one was going to back him up. Fine. “Sorry for ruining the party. I’ll leave. That’s what everybody…”

“Eddie, don’t—.” Beverly tried to say something but before Eddie could process it his body was moving and he had slammed the door behind him.

He started walking in the dark, not really knowing where to go because Mike’s barn was pretty far from downtown. The grass crunched under his feet and there were owls hooting through the trees, but there was too much noise in Eddie’s head to hear anything, much less to hear the steps behind him.

“Eddie,” Richie called him and touched his shoulders, and Eddie jumped because…

“What the fuck!” He grabbed his chest, turning around. “You almost give me a heart attack!!”

“Where do you think you’re going??”

“Home!” Eddie answered immediately, like it wasn’t obvious. Richie looked at him like he was crazy.

“Your house is miles away! You don’t even have a car, Eddie…” Richie tried, but Eddie wasn’t paying attention. If he stopped to talk to Richie it would only make him waste time and he was already wasting a lot of time walking home, so he kept walking. Richie seemed to get it because he stopped trying almost immediately and turned around.

Eddie swore he didn’t feel a pinch in his stomach because of that. He didn’t care. He didn’t care Richie didn’t care. They didn’t care about each other. That was fine. It was fine. He just needed to go home. He just…

The sound of the engines and the tires scraping the soil made Eddie step away from his path. He laughed and covered his face because he couldn’t believe it. Richie slowed down when he got close again, rolling down the window.

“Hop in,” he said, and he sounded mad, more than he was before. Eddie was mad too, or so he thought. He didn’t really know how he felt. “Come on, I’ll take you home! I’m not gonna let you walk all the fucking way to your house.”

Eddie wanted to say no, a part of him at least, probably the same part that had been making all those stupid decisions since this all started. Another part of him was just tired and actually cold, and he didn’t want to walk all the way to his house, so he stopped, and he sighed, and he got in Richie’s car when he opened the door.

Silence.

Not even music, just the sound of the engine and the wind blowing faster. Eddie looked at his hands for about ten minutes, trying not to think about how that was the first time he had been in Richie’s car. It was cleaner than he expected, the seats old but comfortable, and it smelled a little bit like vanilla, and a little bit like weed, and a lot like Richie.

“I would have told you,” Richie spoke first. Eddie didn’t look up, but he figured Richie wasn’t looking at him either. Eyes on the road. “I would’ve... if you had been around,” he said again. “But you’re never around.”

“I could say the same thing about you…” Eddie scoffed a laugh that didn’t sound like a laugh at all.

“Me? Eddie, I’m always around! I’m literally the one who spends less time at home! I’m like a fucking cat, I only come back when I’m hungry!” Richie replied. Eddie clenched his jaw, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to have that conversation. “Eddie!” Richie tried again. “You left, man. You… stopped hanging out with us, started making excuses not to hang out with us! You’re like a stranger.”

“Yeah? And who’s fault is that?” Eddie snapped, looking at Richie.

“What??”

“Yeah, who’s fault is it? Who’s the one who changed it all? Who’s the one who started bringing in random people? And then everyone started dating and bringing more people in and… We weren’t us anymore! So why would it matter that I stopped showing up? There were enough people not to miss me…”

“What? You…” Richie looked at him with huge eyes, then at the road, then back at Eddie. “So is it my fault?? It’s my fault everybody brought people in!”

“Yes!”

“So it’s my fault the guys started dating, sure,” Richie nodded, and there it was, that mocking tone Eddie hated so much.

“I didn’t—“

“Because I forced them to date people.”

“No, that’s not what I said!”

“And it’s also my fault you’re so repressed you can’t get a date for yourself, so you hate on everyone who—“

“Fuck you.” Eddie didn’t scream, he didn’t raise his voice or said the words in a particularly rude voice, but Richie stopped talking, maybe because he noticed how Eddie was breaking up.

He wasn’t going to cry, he had been holding up so well since he left the party, he wasn’t going to ruin it now. Eddie heard Richie swallow. Maybe he could see past Eddie stoic face, or Maybe Eddie wasn’t such a good actor after all. Richie took a deep breath, then let it out. He was going to say something. No, Eddie wouldn’t let him.

“It is your fault,” Eddie said, gathering all of his strength to make his voice sound firmer, clearer. “It is your fault I left, and it is your fault and can’t get a stupid date and it… it is your fault I lost my friends.”

“That’s not fair, Eddie…”

“Fair?? You want to talk about fair? What you did to me is not fair! What you did to me that fucking night…!” Richie opened his eyes huge, his face turning pale. “You fucking… infected me,” Eddie choked, looking away and trying to swallow the hard lump in his throat. “Like a… filthy virus.” He rubbed his hands together, hard. He could almost feel it, the filth crawling up his skin.

“I’m not a disease, Eddie,” Richie replied, but his voice sounded lower, unsure. Eddie took advantage of that.

“Oh, you are… And you had to… do _that_ …” Eddie was starting to feel his stomach turn, he closed his eyes. He wanted to throw up.

“You can’t even say it…”

He couldn’t. He couldn’t say because then it would be too real, too much to handle. The memory threatened him every day and night since it happened, and no matter how much Eddie had tried to push it away, to bury it down, it would always come back up. He got goosebumps, his lips tingled.

_“Here. Here, Eddie. Breathe. It’s over, man. You’re fine. You’re fine.”_

_A smile. A touch. Eddie was shaking and Richie’s hands didn’t make it any better. It made it worse, but a kind of worse Eddie never thought he could enjoy._

“Was it that bad?” Richie asked. He sounded hurt.

_Richie was so close, so close, and Eddie could feel the heat radiating from his body, the silence of the room. Eddie was scared, he was scared of himself, he was scared of how bold he felt again, how brave, how… reckless._

_“Come on, tell me,” Richie whispered. Eddie looked up. God, they were so close. “I promise I’ll keep the secret.”_

“Why did you have to do it?” Eddie asked, closing his eyes, feeling his throat closing too.

_So Eddie closed his eyes. He just closed his eyes, but his face was still up, and he knew he was shaking when his breath came out of his lips in short puffs._

_“Eddie…”_

“Eddie,” Richie called. Eddie shook his head.

“Don’t,” he said when Richie reached to touch his arm.

_Eddie thought he would flinch when Richie touched his cheek, when he cupped his face, but he didn’t. He relaxed, like Richie’s hand had some sort of magic power, the only source of comfort Eddie had ever known. And then…_

_“Is this okay…?”_

Eddie was crying. Shit, he didn’t want to cry but he couldn’t help it! He wanted to throw up, he felt sick in the stomach, he felt sick in the head.

“Come on, Eddie,” Richie pleaded. It did sound like a plea. It sounded devastated. “It was just a…”

_A kiss. Soft and warm and so so wrong it should have made Eddie’s skin crawl, but it felt like heaven instead. Not a sin, not something to be ashamed of. And Eddie grabbed Richie’s pajama shirt, fisted it, just in case Richie wanted to leave or maybe just so he could hold himself on something. Richie smiled against Eddie’s lips, deepened the kiss, and when they finally broke it… Eddie knew he was damned. Forever._

“You ruined me,” Eddie looked at Richie, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I hate you,” he said, like a confession. Richie just nodded.

“Yeah, well… I hate myself for it too, so.”


	5. XIII Death (upright)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all folks!
> 
> Also, can't thank LovelyAlive enough for being the most awesome beta ever!

Eddie wakes up later than usual, he had trouble sleeping last night. The pictures are still flashing in his mind, Richie getting in a fight, people yelling, the smell of blood, and the taste of saltwater. He had wanted to kiss Richie right there, split lip and everything, not even caring about the risk of infection. He wouldn’t have admitted it before, but right now it’s too painfully obvious. He should have said something but it wasn’t the right time and he didn’t have the right to do it anyway. Also, he’s a coward, so there’s that too. His body feels too heavy when he gets up, and he just washes his face before leaving the room because he doesn’t want to waste any more time. Breakfast time is almost over and he’s hungry. He will take a shower later.

He takes the elevator down to the dining room and goes straight to the coffee machine when he gets there. He fills his plate with shit Myra would hate and his mom too, but he smiles when he eats it. It was about time he started doing things for himself.

“Hey, Eddie!” Ben’s voice surprises him, and he finds the face that matches the voice when he moves his head up, smiling at him. “Some of us are in the lounge, having a drink, and playing cards. You wanna join us?”

”Isn’t it too early for a drink?”

Apparently not, because once Eddie gets there along with Ben, he can see almost everyone has a drink on their hand, smoking and laughing, gathered around the table where the card game is taking place. Poker, or so it seems. Eddie was never good at card games. Everybody is there, every Loser and their plus one, everyone except Richie.

Great.

“Hey, Eddie! Are you okay?” Beverly is the first to ask. “You kind of disappeared after what happened last night. That guy was a complete douchebag.”

“Was Richie okay?” Stan asks too, not giving Eddie time to answer. He looks kind of amused. “I never thought I’d see him punch a guy like that.”

“You did right taking him away from that place,” Patty adds. “He looked like he would have kept it on.”

“Yeah, it was… a very impulsive thing to do,” Eddie agrees, clearing his throat and feeling a bit on edge. Richie had gotten into a fight for him and now everybody looks at him like they know something Eddie doesn’t. Maybe they have been talking about it while Eddie wasn’t there, over breakfast, even last night. “He wasn’t hurt too bad. I took care of it, anyway. Cleaned the wounds and the like. Then he went home,” Eddie adds. He doesn’t need to add that, but he still does.

The rest of the guys look at each other and Eddie feels left out again, like the first time he arrived here. For a split of a second, he gets angry, he wants to yell at them and tell them to stop thinking whatever they’re thinking because it’s not true. Whatever they’re thinking, it’s not true.

Or is it? Because, honestly, Eddie has no idea what they’re thinking. He’s just imagining things, imagining the worst things, because that’s what he does, right? He pictures the worst scenario and rolls with it without even thinking maybe he could be wrong. He pictures the worst and he lies. He lies to protect himself, he lies to himself. And isn’t that what was always the problem? That he couldn’t handle the truth?

“Wanna play poker with us?” Mike asks, getting Eddie out of his thoughts. He wasn’t expecting that question. He feels a little more relaxed, though, so he sits on one of the empty spaces on the couches and shakes his head.

“No, I’m still pretty bad at card games. But I’ll have one of those,” Eddie points at Mike’s drink. 

So he stays, drinking and trying to feel a little less on edge, watching his friends play cards and talking with them and officially meeting Audra (her resemblance to Beverly still freaks him out). He learns nobody went home last night. Mike and Ben stayed and roomed with some of the others because they partied together until early in the morning. Eddie wonders if they had slept at all, because some of them look like they’re keeping the party up

“We thought Richie stayed too,” Bill says nonchalantly. “We didn’t see him leave.”

“Well, he did,” Eddie insists, feeling a little defensive all over again.

“Yeah, you told us already,” Stan agrees. “We just thought he could have stayed.”

“No, he couldn’t,” Eddie corrects.

“He couldn’t?” Mike intervenes. “Why is that?” Ben adds. “Did something happen?” Patty asks, and then Beverly, “did you two fight again?” And Eddie just can't.

“We didn’t fight, okay!? We barely talked. We went upstairs and I took care of his wounds, he made a couple of jokes and then he left. He wanted to leave, it was clear he wanted to leave. He never asked to stay and, considering I’m still in love with him, it would have been awkward as fuck if I had asked him to stay.”

“Oh…”

Fuck.

Everybody is looking at him with eyes as big as saucers, Mike has even left his cards out on the table, and Eddie can’t believe he just said that. Has he really revealed himself like that? Could his brain be such a traitorous motherfucker? He feels like the blood has drained off of his face but his cheeks burn at the same time. He doesn’t know what to do, but it’s pretty clear he can’t fix it. He can’t take it back. He’s going to have to face it like a man.

“Guys…” Eddie starts, but he doesn’t know what to say.

“In love?” Bill asks.  _ “Still??” _ Ben adds, and Eddie rolls his eyes because he can’t believe how much he’s going to need to explain, when Stan intervenes. “And how is that a reason  _ not _ to ask him to stay?”

“I… He’s not… I don’t…” Eddie is babbling, looking around at his friends, trying to find the right words. “He doesn’t know. And… I’m not sure I want him to know, okay?” First things first, Eddie takes a breath. “I’m not sure I wanted you guys to know either… It’s not like… It doesn’t matter. It’s not important.”

“It does matter. I think Richie needs to know,” Stan disagrees, facing Eddie even when Patty puts a hand on his arm to make him slow down. “If you don’t want to tell him about how you feel now, that’s fine, but he needs to know the truth about what was going on back then.”

“And why is that? It’s in the past, isn’t it?” Eddie replies, feeling shaky just thinking about it. “He punched a guy for me last night, he even… he even apologized for pushing me away back then, but he… he didn’t. It was me. I treated him like shit, I pushed him away, I made every possible thing to make him feel guilty, I was a piece of shit! But that was years ago and Richie’s fine now, he’s forgotten about it, and we… we were kids! We were kids and we were stupid, and we get it now. So why would I bring up the past just to tell him I did all of that because I was in love with him? How does it make it better for him knowing I was a jealous piece of trash?”

“Is the other option better?” Stan asks, making Eddie look up at him. “I mean, is it really worth it, masking jealousy and trying to make it look like homophobia? I really think one is worse than the other.”

“I… I mean…” Eddie looks around. Shit, he never thought about that. Now he feels fucking stupid.

“You’re out now, Eddie,” Beverly intervenes, smiling at him. “I know maybe back then it was hard to accept and maybe you felt like… liking guys was the problem. But now you know better. If you don’t tell Richie the truth he will just think he was the problem. Not jealousy, not being gay, just him.”

“I just…” Eddie sighs, looking down at the table. “I don’t want him to hate me even more.” He takes one of the cards, tossing it back on the table. “I guess with Richie I never knew how to play my cards right.”

“Maybe you should stop trying to play poker with tarot cards. It won’t ever work,” Stan smiles and puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie scoffs a dry laugh. 

He guesses he could start using those cards to read a better future.

  
  


*

  
  


T hey all agree to have one last dinner together. Some of them take their flight that very night, while the others leave the next morning. They decide the best way to tell Richie is sending Eddie over to the Tozier’s and speak to him in person. They trust Eddie more than Eddie trusts himself or so it seems, but Eddie agrees. He doesn’t want to miss the opportunity, although he’s not sure if he will be able to finally do what’s right.

It’s Maggie who opens the door and greets Eddie with a smile. She says Richie is upstairs in his room, and Eddie remembers hearing exactly that same sentence so many times so many years ago. Walking up the stairs to Richie’s room feels so familiar and strange at the same time it makes Eddie’s hair stand on end. It’s been so long since the last time he did that, it almost feels like he had imagined it, like this is the first time doing something he had dreamed about before. It’s stupid, but most of the things Eddie thinks are stupid, especially when it comes to Richie, so he doesn’t care too much about it. He’s ready to be stupid once more, just for old time’s sake.

“Hey, I thought I heard your voice downstairs,” Richie says the moment Eddie opens the door to his room. He’s on the floor, going through some things in a box. He’s smiling, so Eddie smiles too because he can’t help it. “Look at what my mom kept. Remember this shit?” Richie laughs, holding the ‘Spider-Man No More!’ issue they used to read over and over again when they were kids. That particular issue belonged to Eddie’s dad, like most of the comics Eddie owned.

“Oh, man, are you kidding me?” Eddie smiles wider, sitting down on the floor too, taking the comic from Richie’s hand. “So many memories…” He looks at the issue and he knows his eyes are beaming. “This one was my dad’s.”

“I know. I remember,” Richie nods, giving Eddie a fond smile. “You can keep it. I mean, it’s yours anyway.”

“Oh, no, I…” Eddie shakes his head, giving the comic book back to Richie, although Richie doesn’t take it back. “I gave it to you, it’s yours.”

“You didn’t give it to me!” Richie laughs. “You left it here. You used to read it a lot when we hung out together, so it was easier to just leave it here,” he waves his hand. “Take it.”

“Really?” Eddie looks at the cover of the comic book. Fuck, he didn’t even remember that thing anymore. He hadn’t thought about it for years. “Thanks.”

Spiderman was always special to Eddie, maybe because he wasn’t a great superhero. He was just a kid who tried his best, kind of like Eddie. And he had a secret identity that got him in trouble more often than not. Most superheroes were loved, but not Spiderman, not really. They always wanted to make him look back, to look like a villain. But he was just doing his best, okay? He tried his best and it wasn’t even his fault! He didn’t ask for it, he didn’t ask to be bitten by a disgusting spider! He never meant to get infected… he just wanted to be normal.

Richie is still looking at him when Eddie looks back up. Now Eddie can pay more attention to Richie’s face. It’s not too bruised up. His nose has healed just fine and the cut on his cheekbone is just a bit blue. His lip looks swollen, though, and Eddie swallows before he forces himself to look away.

“You look like shit,” Eddie says. It’s a lie but it’s better than the truth. Richie scoffs a laugh.

“Yeah, I was hoping you wouldn’t mention it.” Richie touches the wound on his lip with the tip of his tongue. Eddie pretends it doesn’t do anything to him. “My mom looked at me this morning with that look she used to give me when I came home all bruised up after crossing paths with Bower’s gang. Little did she know that’s exactly what happened last night,” he laughs. “Nothing says ‘welcome to Derry’ like getting into fights and disappointing your mom.”

Richie moves the box aside and rests his back on the wall, taking a deep breath. Eddie doesn’t move, but now he’s conscious of his own back, it kind of aches, actually. But he doesn’t want to mimic Richie, he doesn’t want to move and sit by his side just to rest his back on the wall. Maybe if he had done it before... but now it would look bad, it would give Richie the wrong impression. Or maybe it’s all in Eddie’s head. Maybe he shouldn’t think that much. Maybe he should just fucking do it and…

“I don’t do that anymore,” Richie says, making a face. “Getting into fights. I haven’t done anything like that in… Well, I think I’ve never done anything like that,” he chuckles. “I don’t know, man. I guess coming back, doing all this shit, seeing you again, it’s gotten me a little stressed out. Just being here, in this room, it’s like… I haven’t smoked in years and I’d kill for a smoke right now.”

“No, I know what you mean, I also feel, uh…” Eddie tries to agree, but it’s hard to make sentences when Richie’s words about him keep running around in his thoughts. “It’s been stressful, coming back… But I did want to see you guys again.” You guys. Not you. He’s not ready to say just you.

“No, yeah, me too, but you know…” Richie shrugs. “Last night or… the other day at the clubhouse when you said… I’m sorry I stormed off, I promise I’m not an asshole. I just…”

“No, I get it,” Eddie nods. He does. Kind of. “I know I didn’t make it easy for you when you… you know.”

“When I said I liked cock?”

“Richie…” Eddie rolls his eyes at Richie’s grin.

“You gave me a lot of shit,” Richie insists, and Eddie agrees he deserves it, but it doesn’t make it any less humiliating. “I mean, you did hate my guts. You single handedly ruined my birthday,” he laughs when Eddie lowers his head and sighs. “Hey, I get it. Really, I do,” Richie says, and Eddie feels Richie’s hand on his shoulder before he can see it, before he can look at it. And he does  _ look _ , probably too obvious, but it’s the first time Richie touched him since they arrived here. Eddie touched him, he did last night, when he got him out of the fight, when he cleaned his wounds, but Richie never touched him back.

And maybe because Eddie is that obvious, Richie takes his hand away, and somehow it feels like Eddie lost something. He sighs, shifting and moving and resting his back on the wall beside Richie. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says. Finally.  _ Finally _ . An apology that was due too many years ago. Better late than never. “I did… I regret a lot of what I did to you, I was… You didn’t deserve any of that, and I…”

“Hey, no. I mean it. I get it,” Richie repeats, giving Eddie an understanding smile. “I didn’t expect my coming out to be easy, you know? It was so much better than I could have hoped for. The guys, my parents, everyone that mattered was okay with it… except, you know. Except you. But I was counting on it. I mean, no offense, but I know the kind of shit your mom used to say and I didn’t expect you to… think any different.”

“It’s not an excuse.”

“I know, but…” Richie sighs. “Look, I’ve dealt with it too, okay? I just didn’t hide it because I was unable to. Like, physically unable. I can’t hold things back, so I just… let it out.”

“You’ve dealt with what exactly?” Eddie asks because Richie lost him there for a second. Richie shrugs.

“Internalized homophobia. You know, since you’re…”

“Oh.  _ Oh _ …” Eddie closes his eyes and laughs. “Yeah, uh… I mean, there was that, yes. But that wasn’t… That didn’t…” Eddie feels a lump in his throat and tries to swallow it, knowing for a fact his whole face is getting red. He can’t believe he’s going to say it. “I didn’t act like that because you liked guys, that wasn’t… that wasn’t exactly the problem.” He can’t breathe. Why can’t he breathe? Shit, his chest feels tight. Can someone die from embarrassment? Fuck, he should have checked that before doing this. “The problem was… Uh. You know. Me.”

Eddie takes a deep breath. Richie blinks. He looks at Eddie like Eddie didn’t just do one of the hardest things he’s ever done in his life.

“I’m not sure what that means,” Richie finally says. Eddie covers his face with his hands and groans.

“Jesus, Rich. I… When you started dating guys and… We— I was jealous. Jealous. That’s—“ Eddie moves his hands, and he hopes that counts as an end to his sentence. Richie blinks again.

“But. You mean like… like we couldn’t be friends anymore because I was dating guys and spending time with them, so we couldn’t—“

“Jealous as in I wanted it to be  _ me _ , Richie!” Eddie uses his hands again, to make it clear, to stop beating around the bush, to finally, finally, let it all out. Richie looks at him in the exact same dumb face he’s been making since the conversation started. “I didn’t want you to date them, I wanted you to date  _ me _ . I wanted you to hold my hand and laugh together and ride your bike and—“

“But we did that as friends too, Eddie, we—“

“And I wanted you to touch me like you touched them,” Eddie doesn’t need to raise his voice. Richie goes silent. “And I wanted you to kiss me. And… I knew that wasn’t right. I knew I shouldn’t want that, I knew you didn’t… So I hated myself for wanting it and I hated you for making me want it.”

Richie doesn’t say anything for a second. He doesn’t react, he just looks at Eddie in a way Eddie doesn’t know how to read. He’s not mad. He doesn’t look mad, at least, but Eddie can’t help but feel maybe this time he fucked up irremediably.

And then Richie laughs. He fucking laughs, he cackles up and covers his face and shakes his head. And now Eddie doesn’t know what to think because, is that a good laugh or a bad laugh?

“Eddie,” Richie looks at him, and Eddie can see him struggle, but he chuckles again. “You ran away when I kissed you,” Richie whispers, like it is still a secret. Well, it is, now that Eddie thinks about it.

“I was thirteen, Richie.”

“You dissed me. You stopped coming over, you…”

“I was scared! I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know if you meant it, I didn’t know why you did it or what it meant for you and you didn’t… I kept repeating it in my head every night. When I closed my eyes I could only see you, I felt it on my lips, I thought I was going crazy.”

“Oh yeah, crazy for me,” Richie jokes, laughing when Eddie punches his arm.

“Fuck off, you don’t even…” Eddie takes a deep breath. Fuck it. In for a penny… “I couldn’t even look at you without getting a boner,” he deadpans.

“You’re fucking with me,” Richie laughs once again, his face so amused it shows he’s having the time of his life. Well, Eddie is glad someone is enjoying this.

“I was thirteen! It was my first kiss and it was you and my mind kept running against my will!” Eddie tries to explain, but he can feel his face is too red and Richie still have that stupid look on his face. “It was confusing as hell because it was you and you always teased me and… and you acted like it didn’t matter so I thought it didn’t matter to you, but it mattered with the other guys and… I…” Eddie sighs. “I was fucking stupid, okay? And jealous. And… can you close your mouth already? Wipe off that smile! I’m suffering here!”

“Eddie…” Richie does close his mouth, but the smile is still there, something between amusement and disbelief. “I carved our initials in the kissing bridge.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” Richie nods and laughs, shaking his head and resting his face on his hands. “I did…” He’s still looking at Eddie, but he doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t stop looking.

“What?”

Richie lowers his eyes, his smile changes.

“Nothing.”

It doesn’t feel like ‘nothing’. It feels like Richie’s eyes are staring deep down into Eddie’s deepest secrets and it’s making him feel dizzy and dumb and thirteen years old all over again. And why is his heart beating so fast? It’s nothing. They’re just talking. Richie’s just looking at him. Nothing else is going to happen.

But they’re too close, aren’t they? Shit, when did Eddie sit so close to Richie? Their shoulders are almost touching but, of course, that doesn’t mean anything because Richie’s shoulders are so broad they just…

“Did you want to?” Richie asks, and his voice is lower again, so Eddie knows what they’re talking about. It’s not a question he thinks he’d ever be prepared to answer. But Richie continues. “I know it’s a weird question, but… I… After you run away, after everything that happened and what you said to me before I left… I kinda thought… I believed you hated me because I took advantage of you. I played that scene in my head over and over again because at that moment I swear I thought you wanted it too, but then I couldn’t remember any signs and… and you hated me. So maybe I had been wrong and saw things where there was nothing and…”

“I wanted to,” Eddie cuts him. “I did want to. I promise you, Richie, you did nothing wrong, you read it well and you absolutely didn’t take advantage of me,” he clears up right away because he can’t believe he had led Richie to think such a thing. He could have never thought Richie could have taken it that way. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Richie. I didn’t know.”

“No, it’s okay,” Richie breathes out and smiles. “I forgave myself already. I mean, I was thirteen too, and it was just a kiss, it wasn’t… like… But it’s good to know,” he smiles. He sounds relieved.

“Just so you know, since we’re coming clean here, maybe because it was my first kiss and everything, but it was good,” Eddie adds. He needs Richie to know. “It felt… I liked it. A lot.”

“Oh, thanks,” Richie laughs. “I must say my face sucking skills have improved a lot since then, but I’m glad you recognized my incredible kissing abilities...”

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. He fucking knew it. “Don’t get cocky. You were just fine.”

“No, no take backs, you said you liked it  _ a lot _ ,” Richie wiggles his eyebrows.

“I’ve had worse…” Eddie gives him a sideways look. “Had better, too.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t believe someone could kiss better than a thirteen-year-old Richie?” Eddie laughs.

“I don’t believe someone could kiss you better than me.”

Great.

There it is again, Eddie’s heart beating like it wants to jump out of his chest.

“Well, I wasn’t… That’s not what I meant. I- I meant…”

“I know what you meant,” Richie cuts him. And he’s still smiling but why the hell does it feel so intense? Does he show? Can Richie see how nervous Eddie is?

“Let’s just…” Eddie clears his throat. Richie is too close again. Were they always this close? Eddie needs to find a way to control his anxiety. Yoga is certainly not working right now. “Let’s say thirteen-year-old Richie was the best at his time. And that’s it.”

“Well, you’ve made thirteen-year-old Richie very happy,” Richie smiles. “Present Richie, on the other hand…”

“Richie, I’m not going to give you the satisfaction—“

“You’re not going to give me the  _ satisfaction? _ ” Richie laughs in amusement. “Are we talking about satisfaction here? Because I must say—“

“ _ Richie _ .”

“—I’m a pretty good fuck too.”

Shit. There it goes, the burning heat pooling down at the bottom of Eddie’s belly, dripping dangerously between Eddie’s legs. Yeah, that’s what he meant when he said he couldn’t look at Richie without getting a boner. He’s so glad he’s officially a teenager all over again.

“I’m n—“ A very embarrassing noise comes out of his mouth instead of words, and Eddie knows that’s the sign for him to get the fuck out of there. Richie’s room has always been a dangerous place. So he stands up and dusts himself off, clearing his throat. “The guys sent me here to tell you we’re all having dinner together tonight, since most of us are leaving early in the morning tomorrow, so…” Eddie looks at Richie but doesn’t really look at him, he just moves his eyes in Richie’s direction but the only thing he can see is the image Richie has put in his mind.

“Hey!” Richie grabs Eddie’s jeans before he can move away. Eddie forces himself to really look at Richie this time. There’s a guilty smile on his face. “I’m kidding.”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. And swallows. “I know.”

Richie doesn’t look convinced.

To be fair, Eddie didn’t sound too convincing either.

“And I bet you’re actually a mediocre fuck, to be honest. You look fucking lazy in bed…” Eddie adds, just to keep up with the joke. Because it was a joke. Because they are  _ kidding _ . He wants to let Richie know he’s aware of that.

Richie’s smile tells him it works.

“Hey! I’m a selfless lover!”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t sweat it, Tozier…” Eddie laughs and walks away, hearing Richie stumbling to get up and follow him.

“I’m  _ awesome _ in bed!”

“Please, say it a little louder, I want your mom to hear this.”

“My mom would be proud!”

  
  


**

  
  


Eddie never thought he would be sad about leaving Derry and going back home. When he was fixing his suitcase a week ago he didn’t even think he would have the chance to miss anything from that awful town. Right now, folding his clothes and putting them back in the suitcase, he wonders what would he have done differently if he had known what could happen, what a simple chat could achieve.

At least he fixed it, his friendship with Richie. He managed to do it, and he smiles when he thinks about it. He smiles when he remembers them all having dinner together last night, laughing and joking and acting like time hadn’t really passed. He didn’t know he missed his friends so much until he realized he would have to leave them once again. He didn’t know he missed Richie so much until he  _ tasted _ how a life by his side could be like.

Maybe, if he had had more time, he could have done it better. Maybe, if he had more time, he could have asked for a second chance. A second chance to be a better friend. A second chance to prove Richie he could be braver, kinder, someone worth waiting for. It’s stupid, he knows, and he laughs softly as he closes his suitcase. It’s stupid because he’s still hung up on a high school crush and he knows he should move on. Perhaps now he can do that. He apologized to Richie, he confessed his old crush on him, and he told the guys he’s gay. He came clean about everything that could be holding him back. He checked everything on the list, and furthermore, Richie forgave him, the guys accepted him, and now everything is like it should have always been.

“I’ve completed the hero’s journey,” he says to himself. “And now I’m coming back home wiser and ready to move on.” He puts his suitcase on the floor, taking a deep breath.

When he goes downstairs to have some breakfast, he’s surprised to see Stan and Patty still sitting by the buffet. Eddie appreciates the company and the small talk. He shares with Stan his worry about when this kind of reunion will happen again. They’re growing older, after all, working boring jobs, living boring lives, tied up on the day by day. Stan smiles and tells Eddie he’s pretty sure Bill’s wedding will be soon.

“Is that it? We’ll only see each other at weddings and high school reunions?” Eddie asks sarcastically. “Seven weddings to attend and then we’re done until the 50 th anniversary of whatever shit we get invited to.”

“Six if you don’t count your own wedding,” Stan corrects. “And that’s only in case we don’t start marrying each other. I’d count five because I’m pretty sure Beverly and Ben won’t stand to be apart much longer.”

“Marrying your high school crush? What is this, a John Hughes movie?”

“Why are you so worried about not seeing each other again in a while?” Stan ignores Eddie’s joke and goes straight for the throat. Eddie clenches his jaw. “It’s been a long time since the last time we saw each other, but we’re still here. We’re still the same.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He knows. That’s partially the problem. You can’t fix things from a distance. When they moved apart things stayed the same, and that meant staying in purgatory for Eddie’s and Richie’s friendship. Now Eddie has fixed that, but that only means they will remain friends for as long as they keep being apart from each other. That means Eddie will have to wait for God knows how many more years to take another step forward.

“I guess Ben and Bev will see each other more often if they really want to work on that wedding,” Stan says, almost like he could read Eddie’s mind. And then, he gives Eddie a smirk. “Thinking about marrying your high school crush?”

“You’re out of your mind, Stan.” Eddie huffs and finishes his breakfast, mumbling something about finishing packing and standing up with a quirky wave of a hand.

“See you in ten years!” Stan jokes sarcastically.

“Put a ring on her finger if you want to see me sooner!” Eddie replies back, pointing at Patty, and he’s glad to say he can see Stan’s cheeks blush before he gets into the elevator.

Eddie walks down the corridor with a smile on his face, a sad smile but a smile after all. He’s glad he got his friends back, even if it’s in the distance. He never participated much in the group emails or the group calls, but he wants to do it now. He really hopes they don’t need to wait for one of them to marry to meet again, but in the meantime, he wants to recover their friendship and participate as much as he can. He doesn’t even want things to be the way they were, he wants to build something new, something better.

He checks his room once he’s inside, making sure he didn’t forget to pack anything. He still has a few hours until his taxi comes to get him to the airport, so he sits on the bed and closes his eyes. He can hear the birds chirping outside and the wind blowing. He could turn on the TV and watch something to make the wait less boring, but he doesn’t want to disturb the silence. He wants to enjoy it.

The knock on the door distracts him from his almost meditative mood and he groans when he stands up, but he guesses Stan has come to say goodbye. He’s pretty sure he saw Stan and Patty’s luggage by their side so he thought they would leave right after finishing breakfast, but maybe he was wrong.

“Can’t get enough of my face, Uris?” Eddie asks when he opens the door.

“Uris? Are you cheating on me already, Edward? Should I tell Patty?” Eddie freezes when Richie gives him a cocky smile, leaning on the doorframe and looking inside. He wasn’t expecting Richie to come. In fact, he was pretty sure Richie said his flight took off early in the morning, so he’s having trouble understanding who’s that man in front of him, so much trouble he’s still holding on the door, blocking the entrance. “Are you going to let me in?”

“What? Oh, yes. Yeah, just…” Eddie moves, making room but not really walking away from the door. Richie gets in and looks at him, then looks at the door.

“Are you… going to leave that open?”

“Shit,” Eddie shakes his head, closing the door and walking away to sit on one of the chairs. “Sorry, I’m… I thought you were Stan, we had breakfast together and… Didn’t you…? I thought you left already.”

“No, I’m still here,” Richie replies. Yeah, well, Eddie can see that. “You already packed everything up.”

“Yeah, I’m leaving in like a couple of hours,” Eddie nods and watches Richie pace across the room, finally sitting on the bed in front of him. This is awkward. It shouldn’t be, not after how good things went the day before, but Eddie guesses you can’t change years of awkwardness for one day of honesty. “Is everything okay?”

Richie frowns and looks down, looks at his own hands, then back up at Eddie, taking a deep breath. Eddie swallows. This is where Richie tells him he’s an awful person and he can go fuck himself because Richie doesn’t want him by his side. That’s it, right? Yes. That’s…

“I had a good time yesterday,” Richie says, taking Eddie out of his own thoughts. “I mean, last night, having dinner and… going to Bill’s room and raiding the minibar and singing drunk songs together.”

“Oh,” Eddie smiles. “Yeah, me too. Who could have thought Ben could sing like that? And Audra can really handle alcohol, like, I wouldn’t imagine she—”

“What I mean is,” Richie interrupts him, standing up again and walking around, “I’d like to do it again. You know, back home.”

“Home,” Eddie blinks. “You mean, like, Chicago?”

“We live in the same city, Eddie! It’s stupid we never hang out or...I don’t even know where you live! I mean, I know I’m probably not the kind of person you want to show up at your house uninvited, but not even giving me your address is a little bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“Here,” Eddie says, taking a card from his wallet and handing it to Richie, who frowns when he takes it and looks at it. “Yes, it is my business card. My address is at the bottom. Sometimes I take some business home because my life is  _ that _ boring, so it’s not that I don’t want you there, I just never thought you could be interested in… visiting me.”

Richie frowns, even more, putting the card in his back pocket and sitting by Eddie’s side, looking at him. “Are you stupid?”

“I’m not! I’m boring, Richie. I don’t have many friends, none outside the office, I don’t go to bars, I was in a fake relationship for three years before I worked up the courage to break up, I’m not the kind of person anyone wants around and… I had been the worst friend. Why would you want to meet me? What could I offer?”

“Yourself! Do you think I need anything more?” Richie looks upset, but Eddie can’t help the warm feeling swirling inside him, making his cheeks flush. “Who do you think I am, anyway? A fucking rock star? I run a mediocre radio show nobody listens to, I spend most of my day in a tiny studio that is actually bigger than my apartment. And, yes, I do know a lot of people, but the kind of people you can only get drunk or high with, not the kind of people you have a meaningful conversation with.”

“So you just get drunk and high all the time?” Eddie jokes.

“Yes!” Richie throws his hands in the air, making Eddie laugh. “I need boring shit in my life, Eds. Partying like that can get dangerous. You can get away with coming to work high just so many times.”

“I thought you quit smoking.”

“Who said anything about smoking?”

_ “Richie!” _ Eddie groans and rolls his eyes. “Hard drugs? Are you serious? Do you know how fucking  _ disgusting _ those things are? And I’m not even talking about the effects on your brain because I’m not sure you could be dumber, but like, do you even know the components of that shit? Don’t you have a tiny bit of concern about what goes into your body?”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about,” Richie just smiles, like Eddie hadn’t been lecturing him. “I need my Dr. K to help me make good decisions.” He says, making Eddie blush harder. “Like, for example, right now I really want to pick at this scab,” Richie adds, moving his fingers to the scab on his cheek and scratching it. Eddie yelps.

“Are you insane!” He quickly grabs Richie’s hand to put it down, pressing it against the seat to keep it there. “Do you want it to leave a mark forever and make your ugly mug even uglier?”

“That’s what I meant,” Richie laughs and, in a quick and smooth move, he turns his hand around and tangles his fingers with Eddie’s. “I need your wisdom to keep me safe, Eds.”

Eddie swallows, looking right at the front, unable to move because he’s paralyzed, because the only muscle working right now is his heart, pumping like crazy, beating like it wanted to jump right out of Eddie’s chest and start running.

“It’s… a no brainer. Everybody knows you shouldn’t pick at scabs.”

There’s a second or two of silence. A moment in which Eddie is done talking and Richie doesn’t reply, he just looks at Eddie like he wanted to communicate just using his eyes. It feels like forever but, when it ends, it’s like it hasn’t happened.

“You said it yourself, I can’t get any dumber,” Richie laughs, and Eddie can feel how Richie’s hand stops gripping his, relaxing his muscles, allowing Eddie to move his hand free if he wants. “But I mean it, Eddie. I miss you.”

Eddie doesn’t want to let go.

“I miss you too,” Eddie confesses, closing his eyes. He wants to close his hand around Richie’s, he wants to hold it tight, but right now the only thing he can do is stay where he is, so they don’t hold hands, but they’re touching. They’re touching, and that’s enough. “I know I probably miss a memory that’s no longer real because we’ve grown up and we’ve changed but…”

“But I’m still real,” Richie cuts him, looking at Eddie, moving his index finger just a little, enough to graze at Eddie’s skin. “We’re still real.”

Eddie nods, biting his lips and taking a deep breath.

“Richie… I need to tell you something.”

His own voice echoes in his head, higher, far away, with those exact same words, and behind them the same meaning. He laughs and Richie does too. Richie leans in closer to whisper in Eddie's ear: “Is this going to end up with you running away from me again?” It’s a joke, so it shouldn’t send shivers down Eddie’s spine as it does. Eddie just shakes his head.

“I promise,” he says and Richie nods, bringing up a hand to put it behind Eddie’s neck, making them rest their foreheads together.

“Like this, just the two of us.” Richie smiles. “It can be our secret.”

Eddie chuckles because those words make him feel too many things, all at once, and it’s too hard to think.

“Not a secret,” Eddie says, licking his lips and taking a deep breath. “Richie…” Okay. Okay, Eddie, you can do this. It’s not that hard, you said it to the rest of the Losers without even thinking about it. It’s easy. You can do it. You can-- “I… I think…” Shit, why is he shaking? And why is Richie smiling like that? Is he going to laugh? Fuck, what if he laughs? Could Eddie survive it?

“Come on, Eds…” Richie pleads. It sounds like a plea, for God’s sake.

“I…” Shit.  _ Shit _ . “I… want to go see your show live, once we get back home.”

Shit. Fucking pussy. Coward. Scum.

There’s silence filling up the room, not even the birds chirping can be heard now, just Eddie’s heartbeat and Richie’s breath, heavy, faster than Eddie had noticed before. Richie closed his eyes, Eddie doesn’t remember when, but they’re still closed when Richie moves away, separating their heads and moving his hand from under Eddie’s.

“Okay,” Richie says, letting out a short laugh. “That can be arranged.”

“Great. Thanks,” Eddie chokes. God, he wants to shoot himself.

“No problem,” Richie nods, looking down at his own hands and then around and at the door. And so, he stands up and Eddie knows his ship has sailed. “So I guess I should leave…”

“Yeah, your flight probably…”

“I need to pick up some things and…”

“We’ll see each other around.”

“Right,” Richie nods, walking a few steps towards the door.

“Right,” Eddie nods, moving too to, at least, open the door for him. It’s the least he can do, he thinks, to be polite. But Richie moves faster, holding the doorknob and twisting it and opening the door. And Eddie is still shaking for what he thought he would do but didn’t, so he can’t move.

“Have a nice flight, Eds.” He says, taking the few steps he needs to so he can walk out the door.

Before Eddie can think about it, his hand moves and grabs Richie’s wrist, keeping him from moving. Richie looks down at it, then up at Eddie.

“I… “What? What is he going to say? Can he say anything? Can he speak? Come on, Eddie, you had your opportunity and you let it pass, just let the man go have a life. “Have a nice flight, you too.”

“Sure,” Richie nods. And now Eddie needs to let go of his hand.

So he does. He does. And Richie leaves.

Shit.

Fuck.

Eddie covers his face with his hands, leaning his back against the door.

What has he done? Why…?

Why couldn’t he say something? Why couldn’t he just be honest for a second, spill the truth, let Richie decide for once? Eddie’s legs are shaking and he feels like his soul has left his body. Have a nice flight, you too. Have a nice flight, you too? What the fuck? What the fucking—

A knock on the door makes Eddie jump, and he turns around bringing a hand to his chest. He hopes it’s not the room service because he’s about to have a meltdown right here right now.

But he opens the door because he has to.

“ _ Richie? _ I thought you…”

Eddie can’t even finish the sentence, Richie’s hands hold his face and he moves down to kiss Eddie’s lips. It takes Eddie’s breath away, so he gasps just trying to give his lungs a break, and Richie licks into his open lips, sending an electric wave right through Eddie’s body. He’s never felt anything like that, he didn’t think he could feel anything like that, and now he’s shaking and burning inside, and Richie just moves away from him, quick and sharp, like he just realized what has happened.

“Shit.” Richie looks around, he looks lost. Brings a hand to his face, tugs his hair. “Okay. Okay, I wasn’t… That’s not what I had in mind, I promise. I just… I- I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I…” He’s breathless, he’s a mess, and Eddie can only think of how much he wants to kiss him again.

So he does. He does. He stands on his tiptoes and grabs Richie’s shirt to pull him down because why the fuck is he so tall? But Richie moves down pliant and Eddie kisses him hard, harder than Richie has kissed him before, throwing his arms around Richie’s neck and holding himself close, and when Richie wraps his arms on Eddie’s waist and squeezes Eddie could swear he feels like exploding. Who would have thought the best place on earth was hanging off Richie Tozier’s mouth.

“So I didn’t read this wrong,” Richie gasps when he breaks the kiss for air. Eddie smiles.

“You never read it wrong.” And he scoffs when he adds: “With those big ass glasses, how could you?”

“So cheeky, Edward!” Richie makes a voice, something like an aghast victorian lady, and Eddie almost laughs but Richie turns them around, moving his hands down to grab Eddie’s ass and push him up, slamming him against the door and kissing him like he couldn’t get enough of Eddie’s mouth. So, no, Eddie doesn’t laugh. He almost faints, but apart from that, he’s fine.

“You’re so... fucking tall,” Eddie grunts when Richie moves his lips away, trailing down Eddie’s jaw to his neck. He doesn’t know why he says it. Maybe because he feel a little bit stupid being held up effortlessly by Richie, but also maybe because it’s even more stupid how much thinking about it is sending heat waves up and down his body.

“Come on, Eds. You like it,” Richie laughs against Eddie’s throat, biting. Eddie closes his eyes and swallows down a moan.

Shit, he’s getting hard. No. He’s hard. Definitely a boner, that thing pressing uncomfortably in front of his pants. But, what? Are they going to fuck? Is that it? Just like that? Eddie doesn’t do those things. Eddie’s never done anything like it.

“Richie wait,” Eddie puts his hands on Richie’s shoulders (so broad, Jesus Christ), swallowing hard and trying to look into Richie’s eyes. Eddie doesn’t push him away but the intention is there, okay? He just… Richie keeps kissing him and biting him and holding him like he’s the best thing in the whole wide world and how is he supposed to… “ _ Richie. _ ”

“Yeah, waiting. I’m waiting,” Richie mumbles against Eddie’s lips, kisses him wet, bites his bottom lip. God, please kill him now, it’d be faster. Eddie feels himself shiver and he’s ready to just let go and let Richie do whatever he wants, but it seems like Richie really meant what he just said because he stops when Eddie doesn’t say anything else, looking at him with the smile of a hungry wolf and the eyes of an overexcited puppy. Weird combination. Very Richie.

“I don’t know what you… but I’ve never… and also, we need to talk, like,” Eddie looks at themselves. “This is. A lot.”

“Do you want me to—”

“No! Don’t,” Eddie holds himself onto Richie tighter when he feels Richie’s hand trying to put him back down. Richie gives him a smug smile and Eddie guesses he’d have to live with that. “I just. I…”

His brain. His motherfucking brain can’t bother to work properly.

“Can I keep kissing you? Just kissing. Promise,” Richie asks so politely it makes it even dirtier when Eddie feels Richie’s bulge pressing hard against his inner thigh.

“Yes, please.” Eddie doesn’t even care about the question anymore, the answer is just yes.

So Richie does, he kisses, and touches and sucks, and bites, and Eddie can’t believe this is happening to him because this is Richie and this is Eddie, and Eddie doesn’t do things as making out grinding against a wall, he’s never done that, not even when he was a teenager. And Richie… Well, Richies does do that kind of thing, but not with people like Eddie. But they are doing it, right? They are. This is real.

“Richie, I love you.” It comes out of Eddie’s mouth before he can even think about it. The feeling is so overwhelming there’s no way Eddie can keep it inside. And the way Richie’s eyes shine, God, his eyes, his smile, how he brings up a hand to hold Eddie’s face and kiss him harder, deeper, pressing more against him like he wanted to get inside his body. Fuck, Eddie feels like a supernova and he can’t help but laugh. He laughs at the situation, he laughs at Richie’s reaction, he laughs at how stupid he’s been, thinking this could go any other way.

“Yes, fuck, yes!” Richie laughs too, resting their heads together, looking at Eddie like he couldn’t believe this is real. To be honest, Eddie is having a hard time with that too. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear you say that.”

“I love you,” Eddie says again. Fuck, it feels so good.

“Yeah?”

“Yes! I fucking love you, Richie.”

Richie laughs again, and looks at Eddie with that kind of smile that makes Eddie shiver, a mischievous smirk and devoted eyes, all at the same time. Fuck, Richie always made him feel like a mess, and it looks like that’s not stopping any time soon. However, “I do love you too,” Richie says. “I love you, Eds.” And Eddie knows it’ll be worth it.

If he died right at that moment, he would die a happy man. Eddie is pretty sure. In fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this happy.

“So what now?” Eddie smiles. “What do we do now?” He’d really like to know because it’s the first time in his life he has no idea what’s going to come, it’s the first time in his life he’s not in control and also… it’s the first time in his life he doesn’t care.

“You should totally come see my show,” Richie says, making Eddie laugh. “And I can buy you a drink after that.”

“And before that?”

“Well, we can take a flight home together because I missed my flight already and you’re about to miss yours.”

“Oh. And why is that?”

Richie smirks wider, closing the distance and speaking to Eddie’s ear. “Because you said I was a mediocre fuck, and I’m about to prove you wrong. Again.”

Eddie shivers, but he hides it well. He’s never done anything like that before, but he’s ready to start living his life at its fullest. No more regrets, no more wondering, no more second-guessing. It’s now or never. He takes a deep breath, smiling when he looks at Richie in the eyes.

“Show me your cards.”

“All-in, baby.”


End file.
